To the Dark Side of the Moon
by Freida Right
Summary: -FFIV-post game-not TAY- They say that you will never know who you are, until you know who your father is. Palom and Porom have spent their lives looking for their father, without success. When all hope of finding him seems most lost, another fatherless soul, all the way from the moon, leads them to the last answer they had ever expected... And to the father they always hoped for.
1. Prologue

Per the insisting of a certain forum. And a certain , you really have come up with all my better ideas. Thanks for this one, it's exactly the sort of thing I would never think of on my own. ;D

Also, thank you to Moonclaw, who helped me with some character design. 8D

SO. This is the beginning of a new arc about our favorite dysfunctional twins, because they are my specialty. I love them. And I always love a new angle for them, so this prompt was quite a paradigm shift. It is so far removed from Faraxhae Family Circus, I don't know where to begin. I don't think anything I've wrote about them can even tie into this, because they all depended on that. Feh. Looks like I'm starting over... Also, it does not in any way relate to The After Years. I haven't the format to play it, so I will do it justice and not touch it for now.

However, we are keeping one or two OC's from the previous canon; aaaaaaaaand, I'm thinking that From Me To You will also stem from this, instead of from FFC.

And so, without further ado, a pathetic attempt at a prologue-because we all know, I can't start a new epic without one.

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_To the Dark Side of the Moon_

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It was dawn. From the top of the tower of prayer, it was impossible to ignore the coming of the new day. The early morning light danced on the shifting waves, rolling with them up the sandy shores that surrounded the shining, holy city. As if the oddly dragon shaped island of Mysidia was physically soaking up the light, heralding the dawn to the rest of the world.

Only one man was there to see that glorious view that morning, and his head was too troubled to notice. Malachi had been the city's Elder for nearly 35 years, and had seen many sunrises and their respective sunsets from atop the tower. For the moment, he silently worried over the dawning day; there were many difficult decisions to be made today.

As he stood solid in the center of the tower's top, facing west and out of the rising sun, the breeze flew past him sharply. The height, coupled with the vast ocean on all sides of the island, always made for fierce winds. They drowned out all other sound, all other thoughts, leaving only the roaring of wind and waves; it was an ideal place for Mysidia's highest, most esteemed mage to meditate and pray. As the wind whipped him, so it whipped the slip of paper in his hand, threatening to yank it from his gasp entirely. Yet he held it firmly, not allowing it to be lost. The item was nondescript, worthless to any other eye in the city. But it meant all the world to him now; and it would mean all the world to a pair of newborn children, someday when they were ready.

Malachi was beside himself. The solitary scrap of paper was now all he had left of the odd girl he had taken in, some five months ago. His subordinates hadn't cared for her in the slightest-she had been a stranger, too traumatized and hysterical to even remember where she had come from; and she had come to him with a pair of children in her belly, with no father to account for them. The other mages had made moves to shoo her from the city altogether, if they could help it. Even the white mages had scowled after her and called her unclean, defiled, unfit to be in the holy city.

Whether they wanted any part in the girl's unfortunate story or not, Malachi had felt compassion for her. Asking her name, she had said to call her Verinia. Much to the displeasure of the other mages, she had become a somewhat permanent fixture of the Elder's household. He liked to think she had come to be a daughter, the child his duties to the city had prohibited him from having. What was more-though he refrained from discussing it with others yet-he had intended to take the children as his own, as well. They and their mother would have everything they could need in his house, and he would teach them his magic.

They would have a home, for Verinia didn't seem to have one of her own. At least, not anymore.

This had been the plan. It had been a wonderful plan, and devising it had brought him joy. Today, it was sorrow that gripped him instead. The twins had come as expected, without particular hardship or curiosity. And yet... She was just gone. His Verinia had simply slipped out of the world, seemingly without cause, and she had left so little behind. Her last words to him were in the form of a frantically scribbled note-the paper he held in his hand.

_It seems only right that you know this now, at the end of our time together. Yet promise that you will keep this from Palom and Porom, until they have reached an age that they can understand. I would entrust this to no one else in this world, but you, my dearest and only friend_.

As he scanned the note, for what must have been the thousandth time, he sensed someone coming up the stairs to see him. He looked up to see one of his assistants, a black mage, slowly, cautiously approaching him.

"Her passing still troubles you?" the mage asked, his voice sounding somewhere between perplexed and indignant.

"Verinia meant a great deal to me," Malachi answered, sadness dampening his voice so he thought his words may have been lost on the wind.

The black mage seemed to make a face; but with his face cast in the shadow of his pointed hat, it was difficult to tell.

"...Sir, what do you intend to do with the children?"

Malachi glared back, knowing his assistant knew the answer.

"Surely, you do not mean to keep them, as well?" the black mage continued, almost demanding. "Children born of wickedness, outside of all the laws we hold dear. It isn't right!"

"Passing judgement on infants for the fault of their birth is hardly my place," the now angry Elder snapped back. "My place, as the spiritual leader of this city is to care for the weak, to protect the defenseless, and to show compassion. I will be keeping the children, as my own, and the next one of you to challenge my decision will be demoted, I say!"

"That hardly seems fair to any of us!"

"Your collective behavior haven't been exactly fair to the children, or their mother, who came seeking our help. Our job is to aid those in spiritual turmoil, to ease their burdens, not to add to their load. The lot of you have been far less than helpful with that these past few months."

"She was sullied-"

"Verinia was a pilgrim, seeking redemption and a second chance, for herself and for her little ones, and you sent her away."

"She was beyond redemption. Her mind-"

"Sought healing and comfort, and you denied it."

"We are to look to our own people's safety, our cleanliness-"

"No. Not only our own," Malachi interrupted yet again, storming into the black mage's face. "We exist for all people. Verinia was no different. You have failed in your calling, young man. Be thankful I believe so strongly in redemption, or else you would no longer hold your title."

The black mage was stunned to silence, and tried not to glare too much into the Elder's furious face.

Calming himself, he folded Verinia's farewell note and placed it gently in his pocket, brushing past the younger mage to stalk down the stairs.

"I go to see to the twins. There is much preparation to be done, in their wake."

For lack of a better place, the newborns remained in the room that had belonged to their mother-the space where they had been born only three days before. As the Elder entered the room, he found it eerily quiet. On a normal day, he would have found Verinia there in bed; he would have woken her with the gentleness of a father, and she would have greeted him with a smile, in the face of her troubles. The sight of her now empty bed filled his heart with grief and dismay. He had come to love the girl so...

Beside the empty bed, however, stood a very full cradle. Malachi let go a sigh of sad relief; the infants were still asleep. He came to sit on the edge of the bed, where he could look down upon them with watchful eyes.

They were so small. They were only the newest of babies, innocent and unspoiled. He couldn't understand what could make the other mages hate them so badly. Gazing upon them, with a heart filled with compassion and grief, he was slightly startled by how much he cared for them already. He had played no part in their creation; yet they were already beloved to him, just as their mother had been.

_Palom and Porom_, he thought to himself. _The sun and the moon... Can it be, in her leaving so suddenly, my dear young friend left me the cosmos for an inheritance...?_

The thought made him smile-a weak, tiny smile at first, which quickly grew into an amused, thankful grin. He had always wished to have children of his own, to teach and train in the ways that were right and proper to go in. He had found a child to raise in Verinia, however briefly. And now, she had left him two little ones that needed a home and a father. She had left him a gift far greater than all the stars in the heavens.

Whatever the other mages had to say about laws and cleanliness and everything else, was irrelevant. No matter what was to happen next, Malachi made the solid decision in his heart, in his very soul, that he would be the one to provide the twins' shelter. No one was going to stop him.

_My children... You are safe here, in the house of your father. I promise._


	2. Chapter 1: Grown-Up Decisions

I had discussed this with Moonclaw before... But I've always gotten the impression that the Mysidians are mean. Like that creepy old lady at the inn, who pretends to be a foxy dancer girl to lure you out back... Where she turns you into a toad or a pig, and then laughs at you. It doesn't matter when you approach her-you could have been a paladin for ages, or have any number of people in your party when you speak to her. She doesn't care. She just hates you.

At least Palom and Porom's menu icons turn into piglets, and its adorable. Seriously-I stumbled upon this last week, playing the GBA, and was like... HOW COME I NEVER NOTICED THIS BEFORE? DOES RYDIA GET TURNED INTO A CUTE LITTLE PIGLET TOO?

So yeah. I've always operated under this impression. More of this soon...

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_Chapter 1: Grown-Up Decisions_

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_It was very dark and cold, and the only thing he could hear was the witch before him, cackling teasingly, as she waved a handsome dagger mockingly in front of his face. He wasn't sure why, but something just spoke to him... Telling him that this dagger was filled with an unusual power. And that it was his. That it had been waiting for him to come and claim it._

_But first, he would have to wrestle it out of the witch's grasp._

_"What's the matter, dearie?" she sneered at him. "Don't you want it?"_

_He wanted it so badly. Getting to it was going to be difficult-not only did the ugly old hag guard herself with magic, she was also surrounded by monsters of the gelatinous kind, in a rainbow of colors, abilities, and dangers. He passionately despised these particular monsters. Why, of all the scourges he could have found, did the witch have to have an army of pet jellies, flans, and mousses? _

_Stealing himself for a fight, he gripped his rod tightly and charged, the incantation for Firaga flying off his tongue. The fire spells were always the first to occur to him. Flame called to him in an innate way he didn't fully understand. Their spells brought his heart comfort, and his mind ease. Where others saw destruction, he saw beauty. The spells craved a relationship with him, begged for his attention and direction. In return, he longed to bend and shape their power, to guide them gently by the hand, and orchestrate something beautiful out of them._

_He felt full of strength and conviction as the spell flew through the witch's barrier of monsters, vaporizing a jellie the color of ice, and surrounding the hag in a triumphant blaze. _

_He felt that same strength suddenly fade away as she spoke one arcane word, and he felt himself begin to shrink. He blinked to find himself a child again, his rod too heavy to lift, and the spells that were his best friends had been taken from his mind. He was alone, in the open, with no protection and no friends for support._

_The witch cackled again at his horror, and he began to run. He had no idea where he was running to, he only knew that he was running away from her. Behind him, he could hear the slimy, gloopy sound of the jellies coming after him..._

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Palom woke with a start, his breath coming in gasps, with his hair and clothes feeling soaked with cold sweat. It was dark around him, as his nightmare had been; for a long moment, he wasnt sure where he was. But there was a light shining warmly nearby. As his violet eyes slowly adjusted, he found it was candlelight, glowing from the table beside his bed.

He sat up straight to clear his head, and jumped with fright to see a figure sitting on the foot of his bed, and a pair of eyes as violet as his own watching him. His nerves were so tense, he nearly screamed. But he looked again and sighed with relief.

It was only Porom. He might have known, by now.

"You had the dream again," she commented, sounding and looking concerned.

"I wish I knew what it meant..."

"This makes six times you had this dream, you know."

"But not in succession," Palom pointed out factually. "That counts for something, right?"

Porom sighed and shook her head, exasperated, and ventured a smile to comfort her twin. "What do you think it means?"

"Heck if I know. How's your sleep been, sis? No bad dreams of your own?"

"No, but I don't need them. Your having them keeps me up all on its own."

"You know you could just go back to sleep and forget about it. I can deal with it on my own."

"I wouldn't do that to you. That would go against everything I stand for. And anyway, you're my brother. I'm not going to let you wake up from a nightmare, all alone in the dark, if I can help it. And I _can _help it, so I'm to go on doing this. For however long it takes."

Feeling very lucky to have such a good sister, Palom swung his legs out of bed and stood up straight, stretching his arms wide. He was wide awake now. Sleep would be elusive for the rest of the night, if it came again at all. He thought of telling Porom to go back to bed, now that his dream was over; but he already knew she wouldn't budge. Again, she was a good sister, and a good white mage. She looked like she would also have a hard time sleeping, too.

"You know," he commented, "I had almost forgotten-its our birthday this week."

"You had forgotten?" she laughed. "How could you forget? Its one of the few times we get to see everyone!"

"I know. I've just... I've been busy with... Things."

"How many things can a 16-year-old boy be troubled with, that his own twin doesn't know about? What have you been up to, behind my back?"

"Searching for stuff. We're turning 17 this week, sis. There's a lot of stuff I suddenly realized, I've got to get done."

"You're turning 17, not 77. Its hardly time to be putting a will together. "

"No, not like that. We still haven't figured out who our parents were, you know."

Porom hesitated, fiddling idly with the hem of the bedsheet.

"All of us came into our fight without parents," she said quietly. "Whether we had lost them early or late in our lives, whether we never knew them or watched them be ripped away from us, it was a grief that gave us common ground. Many of us fought as orphans-strong men of valor and honor, united in that wandering. Today, those wandering men are great kings."

Which was an awfully fancy way of saying, "So what?"

"Spoken like a true white mage," Palom muttered, pouting and slumping against the wall. "They, at least, knew their fathers' s names, and who they were."

"That has never made them any more or less than anyone else. Why does this trouble you so badly?"

"I'm not sure... I feel like he could still be out there, somewhere."

"We've searched and searched. We spent two years searching. After all this time... I don't think we're going to find him, Palom. We can't even figure out who our mother was."

"Don't be so hopeless," he snapped back, irked that his usually spirited sister would be so pessimistic. He felt pretty hopeless, himself; seeing that Porom had no hope left either wounded him.

It appeared that he would be steering that ship by himself from now on. Hope had fueled it for a long time. Sheer determination and stubbornness would have to do, instead. Sighing, feeling bad for snapping, he pushed off from the wall and walked out the door, into the dark hallway beyond.

"Where are you going?" Porom asked, following close behind him.

"Just looking for something to read," he answered, casting half a Fire spell to light their way. "Maybe I can calm myself down enough to go back to sleep. I'd rather not be up for the rest of the night. What time is it, anyway?"

"Nearly four o'clock. At least the dream came later than usual."

"Terrific. An extra hour of sleep this time."

The darkened library was cast into eery shadows by the Fire spell, every piece of furniture suddenly taking on the shapes of monsters in the dark. Knowing the lay of the room like his own hand, even in the confusing shadows, Palom edged around everything in his way until he reached the fireplace on the other side of the room. With the encouragement of a dear friend, he coaxed the tongue of fire in his hand into the fireplace, where it roared to greater life. As if to say thank you for the brief adventure they had shared.

Porom had already made herself at home by the time he turned around. She had pulled a book from one of the shelves and flopped down on a nearby sofa, letting her rather long legs take up most of the space. While she began to read, Palom took a brief moment to admire her-how pretty she had become, and how she appeared to belong perfectly in the grand old house they had grown up in. Even in her plain white nightdress, with her long, light brown hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders and face, he thought his sister was beautiful. She had a heart, mind, and soul that were all beautiful, in and of themselves; they shone from the inside out, and made her shine just as brightly without any effort of her own. She looked so peaceful in the firelight, so content. She appeared to be perfectly at home.

However, on the inside, he knew otherwise.

"There was something else I've been hard at work on," he said slowly, going to browse a different shelf.

"Oh? What's that?" Porom asked carelessly, her attention between her brother and her book.

"Well... Living arrangements."

Porom looked at him over the top of her book, her brow knotted in suspicion. "I don't understand."

"Yeah, well... I mean, what's really left for us to do here, right? Its a big wide world, with tons of stuff to see and do and learn, and... Porom, I really want to get out of here. I want to get _you _out of here."

"That's ridiculous," she insisted quickly, focusing back on her book as if she had ended the discussion.

"I'm not kidding! These people can treat me like crap all they want-I can deal with it. I can deal with it, with a smile on my face. But when they're mean to you-"

"You can go on dealing with it. I do."

"But I don't want to deal with it. If we had a mom and a dad, do you think they would just stand there and let us deal with it? Do you think they'd stand for that?"

"It hardly matters, since they're not here."

"Well _I'm _here, and I _don't _want to stand for this anymore. And... You're my little sister. Taking care of you is my job."

"Is that what's been on your mind all this time?" she asked, sounding halfway touched and halfway amused. "Whatever happened to my dumb, irresponsible brother, who used to hide explosives in my dresser for fun?"

"Oh, he's in there somewhere. But for right now... I dunno... I just decided I needed to be big, just for a little while, so I could figure some things out.

"...You really mean that, don't you?"

"I know," he said with a shrug. "I'm amazed with me, too."

"Wow... I'm really proud of you, Palom. That's really hard to do."

He gave her a smug grin, not used to her praise being aimed at him. But, remembering the topic she had cleverly veered off of, his smile caved in.

"Porom, we can get up and leave any time we want," he pointed out. "Why won't you let me take you away from this place?"

"We have a fine home right here," she answered, sweeping her hand toward the ceiling. "Its not always easy, but we're not so alone, either."

"Its not a fine home, if most of the people wish you would drop dead and die. There are hundreds of people all over the world who would be happy to have us. They love us. If we asked to stay with them, they would welcome us with open arms."

"There are people here who love us, too. There aren't many, but-"

"I count three. Three people live in this city who do not pray for our demise every night."

"And you would thank them for that by getting up and walking out? Without a goodbye or any kind of explanation? Like... _Some _people did to us?"

"I never said that. I'm just saying: the most important man in this city adopted and raised us, we live with him in his big, awesome house, we have all the stuff a couple of mages could want... And we are the two most hated people in this city."

"That's an exaggeration."

"No, its not. Meanwhile, not terribly far away, there are kings and queens who beg us every year to leave this awful place and come live with them. They worry about us, Porom, and I don't blame them. They've seen what goes on here. They know how people treat us."

"It doesn't bother me," she interrupted a bit sharply.

"...What do you mean, it doesn't bother you?"

Assuming a calm, serene smile, she explained, "I've come to see hardships as something to be persevered through, because they make you stronger in the end. I have learned to be content in all things, and thankful for the things I do have."

"Like what?"

"Like, I don't know, _you_?"

"Touche. I guess I am pretty awesome."

"I'm also thankful that we've grown up in the care of a kind man, when his subordinates encouraged him to throw us away and forget we ever existed. It would have been easier, but he remained strong for us. Even when we were dead, he found the way to bring us back. I'm thankful every day for that."

"I know, I know..."

"And for our few friends here. Ivri and Bethany are the dearest companions we ever could have asked for, and always have been. Where would we be without them, and their compassion?"

Palom had no words to respond with, only an enormous smile. Ivri was practically his brother, after all these years; the guy had been smitten over Porom since they had been 11 years old, and so had become a fixture in their daily lives. And Bethany... Her name was like a breath of fresh air that made his heart soar. Bethany was wonderful, perfect-maybe as much so as his sister. She was so lovely, her kindness had come as a pleasant surprise.

And it was his side she walked by, his hand she liked to hold. He had loved her for a long time, and she frequently agreed that she loved him in return. It was the best feeling in the world.

He supposed Porom had a point or two. Even if there were places they could live, where the other citizens would at least treat them with basic respect and dignity, the few charms Mysidia had were enough to change his mind. He was loathe to even think of leaving Bethany behind; and he wouldn't ask his sister to leave the man she would probably marry one day. And, managing to overshadow them, was their surrogate father, Malachi, Mysidia's esteemed Elder. If it had not been for his courageous will to do what was right, their lives would have been very different. They could easily imagine their lives being spent in poverty and fear, alone in the streets of a strange city; or badly kept orphanages where they might have been adopted away from each other, never to see one another again. They could easily imagine that they might have even been dead for a long time by now, if it hadn't been for him.

"Alright, alright, I get it," he said at last. "I guess I can keep it together. For you."

"That's the spirit," she smiled back. "Come, sit with me. I'll read you back to sleep."

"You'll what? I'm not five anymore," he answered, purposefully plunking himself down on her feet.

"Well, seeing as listening to people reading seems to put you to sleep," she teased, tugging her feet from beneath him. "For wanting to know everything, learning things just bores you to death."

"What did I do, to get such an awesome twin sister? I would have asked for a brother, but man, would that have been a mistake."

"I would have asked for a sister. That, too, would have been a mistake. Thank you for trying to take care of me, Palom. I do appreciate that; it means a lot to me."

"Well, I'm your big brother, and we've got no dad. What else am I here for?"

She smiled and reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes. "Don't worry about things, okay? Its our birthday in a few days, and then we'll be with everyone again, for the first time this year. Think on that instead, alright?"

A final guard against his troubles and nightmares, she leaned forward to kiss his forehead, and to give him a warm hug.

"Thanks, sis," he said, hugging her back. "Thanks for everything. You really are an amazing white mage."

"Moreover, I'm your sister. Its what _I'm _here for."

She sat back and flipped her book back open, to a random spot in the middle.

"So, are you ready for a thrilling adventure though _A History of Modern Curiosities in White Magic_?"

Palom sighed and rested his hands behind his head. "Ah, my least favorite. Ready as I'll ever be. Fire away."

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Morning came, and Porom was glad her brother, at least, had been able to sleep again. He always worried that he wouldn't, but she always made sure that he did. He had fallen asleep on the library sofa, gently drifting off as she read aloud. However... She couldn't help herself. She had found a new favorite book, and had gone on to read the whole thing, start to finish, unable to put it down.

Palom had woken hours later, long after the sun had risen, to find her just finishing.

"Don't tell me..."

"Its not my fault! This is a really good book!"

"You'll regret this later," he had grumbled, sitting up and stretching. "I'm still exhausted."

And, to her chagrin, Porom found that she was definitely regretting that lapse of self-control. It was the middle of the afternoon now, and she wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere and take a nap. Any flat surface would have sufficed. Alas, she had things to do.

It was no secret in Mysidia, that there were seven common uses for the Sight spell-uses that allowed a skilled white mage to peer into time and space, and into the minds of other people. To master them all was a feat that few had the vitality to pursue. Porom, however, was a Warrior of Light, and a great genius, and so had been determined to master all seven of the spell's applications. It was tricky, though-the same very basic incantation, the same rhythm and rhyme, but with different words in places that had no relation to one another.

So far, she had learned the first five; only two remained. And she was determined to have the next one at least memorized by the end of the day, in spite of her fatigue. Then, in the weeks and months to follow, she would practice and refine it, until she could recite the words gracefully and harness their power effortlessly.

For the moment, however, she felt too tired to focus on any one thing for long. She sat alone in the open study with her textbook open on the table before her; but all she could really do was stare listlessly at the page, her brain too run down to register words. She frequently shook herself, rubbed her heavy eyes, and ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to stay awake. But she knew that soon, she would have no choice but to rest.

She wasn't trapped in a monster-filled cave, on a pressing mission to save the world. She still felt that she had operated amazingly with so little sleep back then, when she had been only eight years old. However, those days were well behind her. If she really needed a nap, she decided that she had more than earned the right to one, and nobody ought to question her.

Just as she was thinking of getting up and locking herself in her room for an hour or two, she heard the front door to the tower open and close. Curious-knowing whoever it was wouldn't accept her help if she offered it-Porom pushed herself to her feet and went to look out into the long hall. One of the Elder's white mage assistants had returned from an errand, a woven basket of various potions on her arm, and she looked cross.

When she looked up and spotted Porom at the other end of the hall, she suddenly looked furious.

"You!"

The mage stormed down the hall and shoved the basket into Porom's face.

"Just look at all this work!" she cried angrily. "Weeks worth of careful work, ruined! No one will take them now, because of you!"

"I didn't touch them," Porom replied calmly. "You don't think I'd know better by now?"

"Everyone who's inspected my potions has said they've been tainted. That they're unfit for proper use. _I _personally oversaw every ingredient, ever measure, every single solitary step that went into making these-they were not spoiled last night. So _you _must have done something!"

"You don't suppose you might have made a mistake of your own?"

"I don't make mistakes!"

"Neither do I."

Porom could have sworn the woman's left eye twitched; it was hard to tell with her hair falling her face.

"...Someone left a batch of potions out in the work kitchen last night. Are these the same?"

"So you _did _touch them! I knew It was your fault!"

"I had thought about it-it was humid last night, and was afraid the potions would spoil if they weren't properly stored. However, I know how things become 'unfit for proper use' when I touch them, so I decided to leave them alone. Looks like I was right about that one..."

The white mage paused, regarding her coldly.

"...So you just _left _them there to spoil overnight, and didn't do anything about it?" she demanded, changing her tactic.

"No, _you _did. I had assumed you were coming back for them."

"Well, that's what you get for making blind assumptions, you rotten child!"

A deep voice nearby caught their attention, saying, "Daphne, calm yourself. The girl is right in front of you, there is no need to shout."

Porom was relieved to see that Malachi had appeared, perhaps alerted by his assistant's yelling. The white mage bowed her head respectfully to him, quickly assuming a more pleasant temperament.

"My lord," she said in a far calmer, wounded voice, "I merely meant to find the cause of my potions being ruined. I took the greatest cares in preparing them; yet when I went to sell them today, they were all rejected! The merchants and healers all said they were unclean, spoiled beyond use. A month's pay has been lost! This must be rectified!"

"And you believe that my Porom is the cause?"

"What other cause could there be? She's tainted them somehow, out of jealousy! Her very touch is all it takes!"

"Did I hear it correctly, these potions were left out in the work kitchen overnight?"

"Yes-and _she _did nothing about it," the mage growled, pointing an accusing finger at Porom. "She could have prevented this!"

"Daphne, it is July."

"...My lord?"

"The nights are humid, this time of year. Consumable goods spoil all too easily, when left on their own in the heat. You do not deny knowing this, do you?"

"Oh, no, of course not. Everybody knows that."

"Yet you left your potions overnight at an unsafe temperature, knowing full well that they would be ruined by morning? I find myself rather confused by this; seems a foolish thing to do, wouldn't you agree?"

The mage stared back at him, dumbfounded, her brown eyes wide.

"If there is any fault in this matter, it is your own. A white mage of your skill ought to know better. If I were less keen, I would say that you were purposefully trying to stir up trouble."

The mage lowered her head, letting her dark hair fall in front of her face to hide what Porom was sure was a scowl of anger and humiliation.

"That said," Malachi continued, "there are plenty of potions, of all kinds, stored up here, in the tower. You may take from those and sell them, in place of those you have lost."

She looked back up, her eyes flashing with disgust. "But _she _made them."

"Indeed. An improvement, I should say, her work is consistently superior."

"Regardless, no one will want them. They are... Unclean."

Porom tried not to let the other mage's words sting her too badly. It was a sad fact, but she was mostly used to it; such things ought to have reflected right off of her, she thought to herself. However, tired and frazzled, she felt her spirits plummet through the floor, and she couldn't help but wilt a little.

As it was, the Elder was appraising his assistant with disappointment and offense in his eyes.

"Very well," he said at last, unimpressed. "A month's pay it is, then, in exchange for your vanity. You do realize, of course, you have a choice to fix this?"

"There is no choice," the mage said piously. "Attempting to sell these spoiled potions was an accident, and I take full responsibility for that. But to knowingly sell unclean products to our people... That is a crime I simply cannot commit, sir."

Malachi scoffed passively at her. "White mage, indeed. Finish your work here for the day, Daphne. Finish it quickly and quietly; and in the morning, there will be no need for you to return here."

"What?"

"After all, your carelessness has cost our household a great deal of money and time. Further, your quickness to shift blame onto someone else is unbecoming of your order. I cannot deny my disappointment in you, child; but if you are unwilling to change your disposition, then it cannot be helped."

The mage stiffened, but kept her head held high.

"...Then that is how it must be, sir. I am truly sorry to be such a dissapointment."

But Porom knew that she wasn't sorry; at least not for her own actions. If the mage was sorry for anything, it was that the Elder she had otherwise served faithfully refused to see things as unkindly as she did.

Finally, Malachi waved her away, and she trudged off to dispose of her ruined potions. Once she was gone, he turned to Porom and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I am sorry for that, my child. If I could have prevented that, I would have."

"Yes, I know."

He made an odd face. "Porom, are you alright? You look unwell."

"Tired," she answered. "And perhaps a bit hurt."

"Hm. Your brother didn't sleep well again? And neither did you, I presume?"

She laughed shortly, ruefully. "I could have, had I picked up a less interesting book."

He smiled understandingly, shifting his arm around her and leading her toward the side staircase that led to her room.

"Come along, child, rest your heart and mind. You have a busy week ahead of you; this has been a poor way to start it off."

Even though she was tired, his comment struck her as odd.

"What do you mean, 'busy'?" she asked. "There's only a day-and-a-half's travel, days from now to plan for. Not much busier than normal."

"It doesn't do to ask questions, when your 17th birthday looms so near," he pointed out with a wink.

"...You're up to something, sir."

"I usually am. A trait I am glad to have absorbed from your brother."

"Where is Palom, anyway? I haven't seen him all day, and I could have used his help earlier..."

"He vanishes often, these days. Off on adventures of his own. Very much like a young man."

"A young man..." Porom repeated as she walked into her bedroom. "Its still so hard to think of us as being grown. There are days when I feel as though nothing has changed. Time just... It never flowed the same, after..."

Malachi nodded, silently agreeing to what she meant. The twins had been dead for nearly a year-literally dead as stone. After being revived from such suspended animation, it felt to them as though the flow of time had never fully righted itself.

It was hard to believe that it would be ten years, the following spring.

"Rest, take your time to gather your wits," he advised, giving her hand a squeeze. "And always remember: if there is anything at all you need, all you need to do is say so. I will do my very best to provide it."

"Thank you, sir."

Leaving her with a smile, he turned and walked back to the staircase. Porom shut her door behind him and fell heavily against it, sighing sadly. Anything at all, and all she had to do was ask. Suddenly, she understood what her brother had meant the previous night.

"If only you could tell me who my father is," she said quietly to the dark, "I would never ask for anything again..."

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The following morning found Porom feeling much better than before, though contemplative and filled with a passion that had faded recently. Maybe that brother of hers had been right. If he was so determined to take care of her by getting her out of Mysidia... Perhaps it wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

As she stood at her mirror, trying to decide how to fix her hair for the day, she looked over her reflection. She generally liked the way she looked-she had grown into fine features, which she supposed were very pretty. Maybe even pretty enough to boast on, though she could never be so vain. The friends she did have always commented that she was becoming quite a beauty; the people of Mysidia often shook their heads and said that it was a shame, to see such a face going to waste on her.

With a small smile, she recalled that she and Palom had looked nearly identical at one time-almost perfect mirror images of each other, except that his brown hair and violet eyes had always been a few shades darker than hers. Today, she found that their faces had grown far apart from one another; they barely looked alike anymore. Malachi often mentioned that she had come to look very much like their mother, which made her blush terribly. She imagined, therefore, that Palom must have come to look very much like their father. All they shared in appearances anymore was their hair and eye color, which still had shades of difference between them.

A dark side, and a light side. Day, and night. Sun, and moon. As if their presence in the world was meant to further symbolize the good and evil that all people carry in their hearts.

But she looked over her green dress with a sigh. There was no doubt about her genius, or the fact that she was a prodigy. She was perhaps the youngest, most accomplished white mage in the world, and even the Mysidians could not deny that. However, the fact remained that she was fatherless, nameless, born outside of the law, and therefore, unclean in their eyes. Her skills, talents, and genius didn't matter to them. They would not allow her to soil their order, by letting her wear the robes of a white mage.

Palom was trapped likewise, forbidden from wearing the royal blue robes of the black mage he was. He openly mocked this, by dressing mostly in red-as if he were actually a red mage. It infuriated the Mysidians, but he had quit caring a long time ago what they thought of anything he did. Red was his favorite color. It was the elemental color of fire, and he had always had pyromaniacal tendencies. Even if he were allowed the robes of his order, she wouldn't have been surprised if he never wore them.

Porom made the best of it, also preferring to dress in her favorite color-greens of all kinds. She was often very glad that the matter didn't bother her brother too badly, because she felt the shame of what it meant with full force. Maybe it didn't mean much to Palom, but she longed for a day when she could wear the robes of her order. Without them, she was just a child with some healing talent. Unprofessional, inexperienced, not to be taken seriously. To her, it was the worst possible punishment for being born, that the Mysidians ever could have devised. A constant reminder that she was a stain on their city, that she was a stranger who had imposed rudely on them, and that she wasn't welcome. As if it denied her potential, and her very personhood entirely.

Just the way the Mysidians wanted it.

Palom was definitely right. He needed to get her away from this terrible place. Soon.

As if he had an extra sense, alerting him to when she was thinking about him, her brother stuck his head into her room.

"So, I heard you slept all afternoon yesterday," he commented, sounding very chipper. "Told you youd regret it."

"Stop it."

"Porom, can I ask a favor?"

"No."

"...?"

"Of course! What is it?"

He held up a long silk cord, threaded with wooden beads and small charms carved from quartz.

"I had to bathe, and my braid came undone. Can you help me?"

"Always. Come on, sit down."

He sat on the edge of her bed, and she climbed onto the mattress to kneel beside him, taking the cord from his hand.

"Just think," he said excitedly. "Only three more years, and I'll never have to bother with this thing again!"

Porom smiled as she took hold of the exceptionally long lock of his hair, also looking forward to not having to deal with it anymore. It was a mark of his apprenticeship with the Elder, a sign that was generally reserved for someone of the man's own family-a nephew, perhaps. However, this particular Elder had insisted that only Palom would do for an apprentice. It was a verdict that many still complained was unfair.

That special lock of hair had only been cut once in his life, ceremonially, when they had turned 13. By then, it had reached halfway down his back; when the ceremony had been completed, the lock only reached to his shoulder. Four years later, it was nearing its original length. Traditionally, the lock was to be intricately wound with beads and charms, for protection, strength, and power. It was a process that Palom fully lacked the patience for, and had hated since he was a child. Luckily for him, the precise twists and turns of the ceremonial braid were nothing to Porom, who had gotten quite good at it over their lifetime.

"Where were you all day yesterday? " she asked, expertly weaving the silk cord into his hair. "I would have gone looking for you, but I was a little busy..."

"Oh, yeah, that. Bethany asked me to come spar with her, in the red mages' training yard."

"They let you in? What did you do, bat your eyes at them?"

"You know nothing can stand in my way when I do."

"And how did it go?"

"Excellently! The reds keep all the best stuff for themselves, you know."

"I'm surprised they let you touch any of their equipment. Nobody yelled at you for impurifying anything?"

"Do I detect a note of annoyance in your voice?"

"Maybe, a little."

"Aw, geez, someone said something mean to you, and I wasn't there to punch them in the face?"

"Now, that hardly would have been necessary. Suffice it to say... Daphne is busy looking for work today."

Palom scoffed. "She was asking for it. If you're going to be mean, just do it. Don't be snide and slippery about it, just do it. Just... Just go on, call me a bastard, I know you want to."

"Palom!"

"What? We're all thinking it, I just said it."

"Fine, fine." She gave his braid a sharp tug, anyway, as a warning.

"Actually, I had been thinking..."

"Hey, I just remembered," Palom interrupted, looking much happier. "Bethany and Ivri are coming over today. She said yesterday that they have something for all of us to do together."

"Oh?" she asked, pleasantly distracted. "I wonder what it could be...?"

"She said they would be around this afternoon, and she also said to just go with it and not ask any questions. Something tells me this has to do with our birthday."

"It wouldn't be the first time they've tried to make a big deal out of it."

"You know, I normally wouldn't stand for some guy trying to put the moves on you. But Ivri, I dunno... He's not half bad, for the guy who's dating my sister."

"Nobody's putting moves on anyone. Normally, I wouldn't let you even look at girls; but Bethany isn't like other girls. She's kind to you, and I appreciate that more than she can understand."

"We're way too jealous for each other, Porom. We may need to fix that."

"Don't say such things. We may have friends, but we're all we've got. I don't want to share you with anybody."

"Not even with my own kids?"

"That's assuming you'll ever be married to have kids."

"You don't think that could happen?"

"I haven't decided if I'll allow it to."

"Well that's a relief, because I don't know if I'll let you get married, either. Ivri's cool and all, but I don't know if you can live with someone else for the rest of your life."

"Just so you know, you sounded super creepy just now."

"Aw... I thought I might have... It sounded better in my head."

Several hours later, the brother and sister were back in the library, reading in companionable silence. The silence was broken by a gentle knocking on the doorframe; they looked up to see the Elder in the doorway, smiling at them.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but you have visitors waiting."

So, Bethany and Ivri had finally shown up. The twins dropped their books and tried not to dash too rudely out of the room, always excited to see their friends. Especially whenever they were bringing surprises.

They found their friends in the main entrance, chatting with each other while they waited. They looked exceptionally ordinary today, dressed in plain clothes instead of their mage's robes. Bethany stood out the most, as usual, even without being dressed in red from head to toe. Instead of the typical colors of a red mage, she wore a light blue dress and a white ribbon in her firy copper hair. Standing beside her in the sunlight, it was easy to miss Ivri entirely: the light reflected off his blonde hair and silver-rimmed glasses so that he blended right in with it. Even though he wasn't dressed as a white mage today, he had elected to wear a white shirt, anyway. The only remotely dark part of him was the spattering of freckles on his face.

It wasn't their choice of dress that had the twins intrigued, though. As their friends quietly talked, they leaned casually against a large crate that hadn't been in the middle of the hallway before.

"Ooh, what's that you've got there?" Palom asked loudly, gaining their attention. "Is it for me? You're too kind!"

Bethany began to laugh, and walked up to meet them.

"More or less," she answered, "where it's headed, is what's for you."

"This package is bound for Baron," Ivri elaborated, also coming to join them. "The Elder asked the two of us to deliver it, knowing full well that we've never been by ourselves, and that we would need capable guides."

"Well," Porom said factually, "my brother and I _do _make excellent guides. Where in Baron are we escorting you to?"

"The castle, actually."

"...Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's... Quite a coincidence."

"We were just getting ready to head over there in a couple of days," Palom added, practicality finishing for his sister. "Oh yeah, whatever's in this crate _definitely _has something to do with us."

"So, you'll come with us, right?" Bethany asked expectantly. "I know its earlier than you had planned, but-"

"Its no big deal," Palom insisted, taking his girlfriend by the hand. "Cecil's like, our big brother. He'll understand. "

"No big deal?" Porom repeated, sounding miffed. "You don't just walk up to a king, three days earlier than you were supposed to, and expect him to just let you hang around, dumb."

"If I were this particular king, I would be happy to see us. Wouldn't you?"

"Its not good form."

"Feh. You and your good form. I'm going; what about you?"

"Of course I'm going! I'm just not going to let you try to spend the night, is all. They're already letting us spend the weekend-that's a generous allotment of their time."

"Yeah, and they'll try to make us stay the month, if we give them an inch. They may not let us leave."

Bethany tried not to laugh too hard at their bickering, but failed. "Its a wonder you two get anything done," she commented.

"Whoa, now," Palom asked, pretending to sound hurt, "where did that come from? I thought you loved me."

"I'm teasing, _dear_."

Ivri rolled his eyes at them, and began chanting Float over the crate.

"Come on, you two, we've got a package to deliver."

"Unless the two of you would prefer to stay here," Porom remarked, following him. "I, personally, wouldn't mind having my boyfriend all to myself for a few hours, without you goofballs around ruining things."

"Keep your skin on, Porom, we're coming," Bethany called after her, hauling Palom to the door. "It wouldn't be a party, if all of us weren't together!"

"And how lame would that be?" Palom agreed, playfully punching Ivri in the arm as they ran past.

"Well," Ivri commented, offering his arm to Porom,"this will be an adventure, won't it?"

She laughed as she took his arm. "And I would know a thing or two about adventures. I'm always up for a new one."

He smiled back.

"Good."


	3. Chapter 2: Surprise

The world of FFIV is not the only land that inhabits their planet, by the way. My brother and I have a theory concerning this. It's all Kain's fault, and he will elaborate on it shortly.

Also, this update may partially reflect a short-lived season some of us went through, experimenting with Kain and Porom as an item. It... Thankfully did not work out. However, I still get the impression they think on a similar wavelength.

A final note: Porom's obsession with oatmeal cookies is a running gag from FFC, which I fully intend to keep around. ;)

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_Chapter 2: Surprise_

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The twins' first trip to Baron had been a considerably bumpy one. Devil's Road had been malfunctioning, then, allowing only the cleverest of smugglers and strongest of mages to cross it safely. Back then, they had made the journey with a paladin and a sage-two of the most fiercely determined men they had ever known. For two brave men on a mission, it hadn't been difficult. In the eyes of two eight-year-old children, it had been frightening and humbling.

Today, just short of a decade later, the road was functioning as normal. Anyone could cross it without trouble now; after a minute or two of light dizziness, travelers arrived safe on the other side of the sea.

It was the first time Bethany and Ivri had ever taken Devil's Road. Luckily for them, Palom and Porom had easily traveled it hundreds of times. To them, the trip was easy; they hardly noticed the dizziness anymore. When their friends stepped out of its hold, they couldn't see straight. The Float spell over their crate faltered as Ivri stumbled and sat down, and the crate fell to the ground with a thump.

"You said it wouldn't be so bad," Bethany whined, leaning against the wall and rubbing her temples.

"Where are we?" Ivri asked from the floor, taking off his glasses to gaze around. They were in a small stone cellar, lit with torchlight. A flight of stairs lay before them, leading up to a wooden door with no knob.

"We're in Baron," Porom answered helpfully, taking Ivri by the wrist and heaving him to his feet. "Don't worry, the dizziness wears off in a couple of minutes."

"Yeah, lucky you," Palom added, leaning against the wall beside Bethany. "Our first trip was _so _bad, I spent the next half hour throwing up. It was gross."

"But that was a long time ago. Devil's Road wasn't itself back then," Porom insisted quickly, encouragingly. "We shouldnt have even been on it."

"You speak of the road as if it had a self to be," Ivri commented.

"Well..."

The matter of the road being a product of Lunarian engineering was a tricky one to explain to the Mysidians, most of whom believed that it was a product of their own magic over thousands of years, and refused to be told otherwise. For herself, Porom just found it complicated and hard to get her head around. The people who had built the road had also built the tower of Babil, and hidden the catastrophic giant within it. The same people were also partially responsible for the existence of one of her dearest friends, which was still strange to think about.

Expertly changing the discussion, she cast a Float spell of her own over the crate, and it flew a few feet into the air.

"Come on, everyone, let's get this done without getting too distracted," she said loudly, marching forward, leading the crate after her. For some reason, Bethany began to giggle.

"Hey, what's with you?" Palom asked. "I don't look _that _goofy, you know."

"Oh, it's not you, it's something else," she apologised, trying to control her laughter.

"Well, we're always up for a good joke."

"I'll tell you later, okay? Porom's right, we should get going, already!"

The two of them walked ahead, hand in hand, while Porom waited for Ivri to catch up. When he joined her and she could see his face closely, she saw how hard he was trying not to smile like a fool. A fool with plans...

"You are up to something."

"No I'm not, dearest."

She rolled her eyes.

"You are definitely up to something."

"You may be pleasantly surprised."

The four friends climbed the stairs, only for Bethany and Ivri to gasp in alarm at the top.

"There's no doorknob! " Bethany cried in dismay. "How will we-"

"Relax, sweetheart," Palom insisted, feeling along the wall to the left of the door. "Now, where is that... Aha!"

Finding the switch that controlled the door, he grasped its handle and pulled it forward. The door slid open before them, shrinking into the wall itself.

"Welcome to Baron," he said grandly, taking Bethany by the hand and leading her into the sunlight beyond. "Everything here is operated by switches."

"Why's that?" Ivri asked, always curious.

"Its a long story," Porom answered. "If we have time, I'm sure that Cecil would be more than happy to explain it. He's awfully good at that."

"Porom, the king of this land is one of your dearest friends. You've known him longer than you've known us. He means a great deal to you, and your brother, and so does his word, yes?"

"Well, yes. We've been through life changing adventures together. Cecil became the older brother we never had. We love him, and he loves us."

"Do you think he'll like us?"

"Of course I do. We've told everyone all about you; they've been hoping to meet the two of you."

"...And what of me?" he asked shyly. "Do you think he would... Approve of me?"

"You mean... As my boyfriend? Absolutely! I think even Edge could approve of you."

"Who?"

"Oh... Technically, we're supposed to call him Edward; but then we would have two of those, and everyone would just get confused. And, he prefers to go by Edge, anyway."

"One of the kings, I suppose?"

"You would suppose correctly. He is the king of Eblan."

"Ah, the fabled ninja master."

"The one who could have beaten the archfiend of fire all by himself, yes. He can throw a fit as badly as my brother. I've seen it."

Ivri sighed, and gave her a loving but quizzical look. "I don't understand, Porom. You are very dear, personal friends with the kings of the Blue Planet. You say that they love you, and that you love them. If that were true, they would give you titles and wealth, if you asked for it. They would give you a home, if you asked them to. Why don't you?"

"I don't know... I don't want to impose on anyone. They're busy people, after all. Running a country is a big deal, and who am I to get underfoot?"

"Their little sister, if you speak the truth."

"But then... I'm not really. I hardly know who I am to begin with."

"It doesn't sound like they mind that much."

"I know..."

"Have you ever considered asking to stay here?"

"Perhaps... Then, perhaps my brother's been making plans to do just that behind my back."

"Bethany mentioned something about that earlier. Palom said something about leaving, yesterday, and it upset her a bit; she didn't understand quite what he meant by it. But I think I do. He wishes to leave Mysidia, and to take you with him, to live someplace where you will be welcomed and cared for. To a place where he knows you will be safe."

Taking her hand, he added, "It is what I would do, were it in my hands."

That was a touching thought. If they were married, he could have done this more efficiently than her brother-who could only boss her around and occasionally beg when she ignored him. No... If it were the very final word of a husband, she supposed she would have had no choice. The thought of Ivri being that husband, finishing the job that Palom never could with a single, calm word, made her smile absently as she walked.

"I feel perfectly safe, no matter where I am," she answered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "As long as I've got you and my brother, I'll be fine."

Porom's insistence to move along without getting too distracted was easier said than done. They still had to travel through the city, up to the castle, and there was plenty to distract a party of adventurous teenagers. It was late spring, and the city was alive with things to do and see. Even after all this time, the twins loved the markets of Baron: the farmer's stands were filled with the spring harvest that was exotic to them, merchants and artisans crying their wares in the streets, and the busy people who always smiled and waved to strangers.

Bethany and Ivri had never seen a city so vast, or a people quite so welcoming. They gazed around wide-eyed at everything they passed, sometimes hard to pull away from the market stands. And of course, every vendor they met greeted them with an enthusiastic smile, even though they were strangers.

It was a feeling of welcome that was seldom seen in Mysidia, where the secretive mages were always suspicious of uninvited strangers. The first time Palom and Porom had been in Baron, the mood had been very much like it had been where they had come from; they city was under the vice grip of a king who seemed to have lost his mind, the people unknowing that their king had been long dead and that a monster had taken his place. The people lived in fear, suspicious even of young children-or perhaps just concerned that they had arrived at such a perilous time. Today, with the war and confusion behind them and a kind, just king ruling them, the people of Baron were free to be as warm and receiving as they prefered to be.

As the four wound through the city, following the twin's expert lead, many people recognized them and stopped to talk briefly. At least in Baron, their home away from home, Palom and Porom had many, many friends.

"Good to see you kids back again," said a young mother, whose son Porom had once cured of a fever. "Come by for dinner sometime, and bring your little friends. Don't be strangers!"

"Oh, its your birthday soon, isn't it?" recalled a baker, who promptly supplied them all with oatmeal cookies. "They're on the house! Happy birthday, you rapscallions!"

"Such handsome company you keep, these days," commented an old woman who sold silk scarves, as she selected a dark green piece from her wares and held it out to Palom. "For the young lady, perhaps? Matches her eyes."

Even though it was a warm day, Bethany draped her new scarf over her shoulders and went on walking with a more regal air in her step. "You guys sure have a lot of friends around here. I wish people just handed me free stuff whenever I left the house."

"Hey, Porom," Palom grinned, elbowing his sister, "why don't we surprise everyone and show up from the waterway? For old time's sake?"

"No thank you," she said firmly, pushing him away. "Once was enough to last me a lifetime."

At last, they made their way onto main street, which led out of the densely peopled city and up a winding highway to the castle. It was far from a long walk, only half an hour at a quick pace; and, because trees had been planted on either side in the past ten years, it was a pleasantly shaded walk. Palom and Porom were used to it, usually taking their time to stroll beneath the growing trees, even stopping to rest in their shade if they were tired. However, as they started up the highway, a man with a fruit cart pulled up beside them.

"Back so soon?" he asked the twins. "And you brought company this time! That crate looks important, too; best to get it where it's going as soon as possible. I'm on my way up there, myself; all you kids, climb on, and I'll give you a lift."

"Who is he?" Porom whispered to her brother once they were moving. "He looks familiar, but..."

"Oh, him? That's Jasper, he owns an apple orchard. He had a termite problem last year, and was trying to burn them out before they ruined his trees. We were in town, so Cecil asked me to take a look at it. Had the pests in ashes in less than an hour," Palom explained with a lofty grin.

"Yep," he went on, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head. "When you need a quick fire spurt, there's really no one else to call."

"Ah, that's why he sent us home with two barrels full of apples..."

"I remember those apples," Ivri said with a smile. "They made many a fantastic use, in Porom's capable hands."

"Oh, stop it, you."

In much less than half an hour, Jasper left them off at the main entrance and bid them a warm goodbye, tossing each of them a bright green apple.

"I'm on my way to the service entrance, to deliver my apples," he explained with a tip of his hat. "Had a big order, all of a sudden. Must be planning a party or something. Give my best to their majesties for me, they run a tidy ship."

Palom grinned at this, as Jasper drove off. "Betcha that has something to do with us, huh, sis? Boy, will they be surprised to see us."

When they approached the gate, the twins were pleased to see they also recognized the guards on watch, who beamed at them.

"Hi, Allun. Hi, Romelle," Porom smiled.

"Right on time," cheery Allun answered, saluting them.

"...We are?"

"Allun!" Romelle hissed disapprovingly. "Pay him no mind, kids. You know how _he _is. Always a jokester. Well... You didn't hear it from us, okay?"

Romelle turned to the wall, pulling another switch, and the portcullis was raised as if by magic.

"Go right on in, and head to the throne room. Their majesties are waiting for the package in the throne room. Welcome back, guys! And welcome to your cute friends, too."

"You never said you had a girlfriend, " Allun commented, punching Palom's arm as he passed.

"You never asked, and you never pay attention anyway," Palom retorted.

"Lucky lady. You be good to him, you hear? He's the only one of him we've got, you know."

"It's a straight walk to the throne room," Porom explained once they were inside.

"But stick close," Palom added, again as if he were finishing his sister's thought. "It's way too easy to get lost in here."

"If you do get lost, just ask. The staff are always happy to help-thank goodness," Porom concluded, finishing for her brother this time.

Everyone they passed smiled and waved as they marched though the wide halls, happy to see them again. They smiled and waved back, able to call many of the staff by name, after all their visits. However, all the people seemed to have a strange look about them. A knowing sort of look, that said they were in on something. But the twins dismissed it, and kept their focus forward.

And then came their least favorite door in the castle. It led to the final, narrow hallway that led to the throne room. Cecil and Rosa had done everything they could think of to have that hallway returned to its original shape, because the corridor creeped them out, as well; but the walls were still bound by an unshakeable magic, and no tool or spell they had could penetrate the stone or mortar.

Palom and Porom shuddered at the same time, always dreading to go through that door and having to be in that space again. It was supposed to have been their tomb. By all the powers, they should have still been stone statues, frozen forever as their eight-year-old selves, braced against the walls. The fact that they had escaped that fate was nothing short of a miracle, and the Elder still refused to tell them how exactly he had revived them.

They quickly shook themselves, steeling themselves to enter. Seeing their obvious discomfort, Ivri stepped forward and opened the door for them.

"So, this is the place," he said reverently, peering inside. The carpet runner had been replaced years ago, and a grand tapestry had been hung that took up the length of one wall. It bore a depiction of the eidolons-a feeble attempt to forget what had happened there. The four entered and walked down the long hallway in silence...

Until Porom suddenly got a funny feeling, and turned around to see her brother pushing against the left side of the wall.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, not impressed.

"Just making sure," he answered, bracing his shoulder against the wall and throwing his weight against it as hard as he could.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't think Cagnazzo can get us, where he is. Would you just come on, already? If we're expected, we shouldn't keep our friends waiting."

Leaving the wall a deliberate, triumphant kick, Palom ran to catch up with them. Once he had joined them again, Bethany began to shake with muffled laughter again. This time, she seemed ready to jump out of her skin.

"What is with you today?" he asked.

"I'll tell you in a minute," she insisted though a fit of giggles.

"Yes, after we've spoken to the king and queen," Ivri agreed, also looking very excited for some reason.

Porom gave them both a suspicious look over, and reached for the switch to the final door. They were both acting very strange; but she was too eager to get out of the corridor to think much on it. She would deal with it later, she decided.

The door opened, and she marched quickly into the vast throne room to find... It was deserted, and dark. All the lights were out, and the curtains drawn. She blinked several times as the others filed in behind her, letting her eyes adjust; in the murky darkness, she could make out the shapes of the thrones on the other side of the room, and the towering columns spaced strategically around the space. But there was definitely no one around.

"I don't understand..."

Palom broke away from them again, daring to venture farther into the room to look around.

"Cecil?" he called into the dark. "Rosa?"

"...Cid?" Porom called after him, hoping that _someone _she had fought beside would show themselves. "Is anybody here?"

No answer came, but her own voice echoing back to her from the emptiness. Palom wandered back to her, and they started at each other in confusion.

"I thought they were expecting us," he commented. "What gives?"

Back beside the crate, Bethany and Ivri were trying their best to look aloof, but were failing. Something was up, and whatever it was, they were most definitely in on it.

"Okay, confession time," Palom said firmly, his patience officially worn out. "What is going on?"

"I don't know _what _you are talking about," Bethany answered with an innocent smile, which wasn't innocent at all.

"Bethany..."

"Ivri..."

"FIRE!"

They all gasped, as the spell's activating words echoed with a boom through the room-spoken with a very clear, very familiar female voice. The carefully, expertly controlled spell flung itself through the open space, instantly lighting every torch on the walls and every candle in the chandelier on the ceiling. The throne room was suddenly filled with light; they all had to sheild their eyes for a moment.

When they looked again, the room was filled with people: each and every one of the Light Warriors had appeared before them.

"Surprise!" they all cheered together.

Porom was so shocked, she let out a tactless shriek and stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the crate as it thumped hard on the stone floor, all control of her Float spell gone. Meanwhile, Palom's whole being illuminated, and he ran to his friends.

"Aw, cool!" he exclaimed, picking Edge out of the crowd and immediately starting to roughhouse with him. "You guys, you shouldn't have! You're the best!"

Edge laughed and began pummeling him back. "Naturally. Only the best, for our two favorite squirts."

Porom, on the other hand, was not pleased to have been snuck up on. Shock quickly gave way to an adrenaline burst, which manifested itself in rage.

"You-"

She jumped up and sprang at Cecil-clearly the mastermind of this whole plot-and beat his chest with her fists.

"You know I hate things like this! You know I do! How could you do this! You're the worst, _ever_! Mean, mean, mean, mean, mean, mean, mean!"

Of course, a sturdy knight like him could barely feel the barrage; in fact, he was laughing. He stopped her tirade by throwing his arms around her, enveloping her in a bear hug from which there was no escape.

"Happy birthday, Porom."

Aw... She couldn't help it. The fury subsided, and she hugged him back.

"...Thanks."

Behind her, she could hear her friends also laughing uncontrollably. She turned to look at them, finding them doubled over with the laughter they had kept forced down all afternoon. Suddenly, their odd behavior made perfect sense. She wriggled out of Cecil's hug and stormed into Ivri's face, instead.

"You planned this from the beginning!" she said, shoving her finger into his face. "It was you all along!"

Ivri held his hands up in surrender, his smile incredibly sheepish. "Well, Bethany helped."

"You might have warned me that everyone I love was going to jump out of the dark and scare me within an inch of my life."

"Porom, it was a _surprise_."

"But you could have said _something_."

"...Surprise!"

Porom continued glaring at him, hoping he appreciated how annoyed she was. Her brother materialized behind her, taking her by the shoulders and gently pulling her away.

"Sheesh, sis, its a freaking surprise party. Calm the heck down, and go hug some of these people. Besides, now that you've so _gracefully _hauled them center stage, I think there are one or two folks here who would like to meet our little friends, wouldn't you think?"

Feeling like she was being talked down to, she let him steer her away and back to her other, older friends. And she had to admit: turning around to find her choice for first hug lay between Edward and Yang made everything better in an instant.

The looks on their faces had been well worth the plotting and secrecy. Bethany and Ivri felt very accomplished for a moment; they shared a triumphant grin, glad that this had gone so smoothly. Then they looked up to see that Palom's last remark had been very true. With the twins occupied and out of the way, Cecil and Rosa were making their way forward, smiling benevolently, gratefully.

They hadn't been kidding. The king really did shine like a star, without even trying.

"So," he said, looking impressed, "this is Ivri, and this is Bethany. We've heard good things about the two of you."

Being shy and impossibly modest, Ivri blushed and glanced away. Being bold and rather proud, Bethany beamed back and couldn't help puffing herself up a little.

"We can't thank you enough, for agreeing to help us with this," Rosa continued, shaking their hands in turn. "It must have seemed outrageous-a random letter appearing out of the blue, from the king of a land you've never been to, asking you to help him plan a surprise party. It was a little out of line, but... Well, I'm sure you'll find that formalities have no place here."

"Sounds good to me," Bethany agreed. "I mean, we were just happy someone was planning _something _for them. Their birthday isn't exactly cause for celebration back home."

She had thought the comment had been made grimly enough. The king and queen looked a mix of dismayed and outraged.

"That does not do, in our book," Cecil all but growled, crossing him arms and glaring into space. "It doesn't do, in the least."

"But," his wife interjected, touching his arm gently, "that only means we get to celebrate more. The Mysidians don't know what they're missing out on."

Turning back to her guests, she explained, "If it hadn't been for Palom and Porom, our story would have ended very differently. We needed them. They changed us all, in ways we couldn't have expected, but for the better. We have more than cause to celebrate their birth."

"They mean so much to us," Cecil added. "They're family; we love them. And we know how people treat them, when we aren't there to shield them. They're hardly children to be shielded anymore, anyway. There's so little we can do; knowing they have friends who love them means all the world to us. Thank you for looking after them, when we can't."

That was high praise from such a king. Even Bethany began to blush. "Its no trouble. They're terrific."

A flash of what looked like mischief crossed the queen's face; with a thrilled smile, she grabbed them by their hands and pulled them off, toward the crowd.

"You have to come meet the rest of us," she insisted. "They've been dying to meet you for years."

Bethany grinned back. Hardly in the kingdom for an hour, and all the world's royalty wanted to meet her. Ivri looked impossibly flustered; perhaps she was a little nervous, but Bethany was mostly excited.

_What a weekend this will be..._

2222222222

Sure, maybe everyone else was having a terrific time, but Kain was having the exact opposite of fun. He had little patience for social gatherings-especially when it was a gathering of just the Light Warriors, which some people thought was odd. He didn't find it odd in the least. He wasn't particularly fond of most of his fellow heroes, and really only found one or two of them tolerable. He was pretty sure that his friends were the only ones who liked or even tolerated him, either.

Every year, the others insisted on doing something like this for the twins. He still wasn't sure why the felt the need to; Palom and Porom probably had family and friends who missed them on their birthday, because they were always somewhere else for it. All he could say with certainty, was that he liked the years when someone invited them somewhere faster than Cecil could, because it meant that there would be no gratuitous fussing around the castle, and that he didn't have to be involved in anything silly.

After what had been a long time, he had finally come to love his friends again, like he had as a child. His time on Mount Ordeals hadn't been spent in vain, even though it had been brief: it had afforded him a few months of quiet and solitude, where he had been able to sort himself out at last. It had started the day he could stand to look at himself again. After that, it was slow steps toward something bigger. The self-loathing had faded away, and he had begun to feel good about himself again. That had quickly spread to his amazingly patient friends, who refused to give up on him, even when he was admittedly an ass.

That didn't stop Rosa from occasionally whacking him over the head with a book, when he got on her nerves. Two little children was too much for her to keep track of, she said; and he understood very well what she meant. Rhys, her son, was six this year, and in a very messy, grabby stage. Being compared to a fussing child always hit home for Kain. He couldn't stand it, but he admitted he understood.

It was an awful lot of fuss they made over the twins every year. As he sulked in a corner, watching everyone else socializing and being happy without him, he wondered why...

"Its like you're terminally allergic to cheer, Kain."

He looked up to see that Cecil had come to join him, leaning against the wall as if it were no big deal. But he looked slightly annoyed.

"Your being so unemotional doesn't make you any stronger than the rest of us, and our being happy doesn't make us weak. Its a celebration. You're welcome to take part in it."

"I don't understand it."

"What's to understand? Its a birthday party."

"For a pair of children who are nearly grown, who you see a few fleeting times a year?"

"Well, its not like anyone else is going to."

Kain raised an eyebrow at his friend, unused to seeing him so wry. But Cecil shook himself and changed the subject.

"What do you think of them? The twins, I mean."

"Hm..."

He hadn't thought about it in a while. Being connected by Devil's Road, Palom and Porom often appeared in Baron, running errands or borrowing studying materials; but their stays were typically short, and he usually missed seeing them in person. The last time he had honestly carried on a conversation with either one of them was nearly a year ago, with Porom, who had been upset and very vague about it at the time. However, they had spoken of the weather, and how their personal trainings were coming along, and how annoying siblings can be. Over all, he supposed she had been very polite, very stimulating company. Before that, he couldn't remember the last time he had carried on a conversation worth having.

He tried to remember something recent about Palom, but... Mostly, he just remembered the bickering little monster who used to throw peas at him.

"I suppose I don't know them well enough to say," he finally answered. "They certainly seem different from how I remember them."

"I know what you mean. Its hard to believe that its been nine years, that they're turning 17 this week."

"...I know it sounds bitter, but why do you care so much?" Kain asked slowly. "They're not your children, and you're not really their brother. They have a family of their own to take care of them."

Cecil looked up at him in shock, as if he had said something terrible.

"No, they don't."

"...What?"

"They don't have a family. Their mother died when they were babies, and their father..."

"Yes?"

"...Well, they haven't found him yet. That's why they stayed here for a month last year. They were searching our records, trying to figure out who their parents were. The only clue they have is their mother's name, and they haven't been able to find a match yet."

Kain was slightly startled, his whole paradigm uprooting itself and shifting around. It felt like everything he knew-everything that justified his confusion and petulance-had been an lie the whole time. In fact, he felt kind of bad.

"...Forgive me, then," he said, still processing this. "I didn't know. Who has taken care of them all this time, then?"

"You don't know about this? How do you not know any of this?"

"I've had other things to think about."

"If you would pay attention and participate in our goings on, maybe you would. I know It seems stupid to you, but these people are my friends. We fought and nearly died together. Moments like this, when we can just be in one place without political nonsense in the way are rare; that is reason enough to celebrate. And you can't tell me you have no feelings toward them, either."

"Well, I could do without the ninja."

"Big surprise."

"Although, I suppose the rest of them aren't particularly terrible. The people they rule over seem to think they do a good job. And they are kind to you, and Rosa, and Rhys, and for that I can't hate them."

"That's the spirit. Yes, I know I have a habit of doting on the twins-we all do. But now that you know where they come from, can you show them a little compassion? As a birthday present, if nothing else?"

Kain nodded his head. "I suppose we have more in common than I had thought. Perhaps I even find myself in a position to give them council. Then, I suppose most of us do."

"You should try talking to them, then."

"I had given up trying. I thought I still frightened them."

"They're older and wiser now than some of us tend to remember. 17 this week, remember? And genius, too. They're more capable than we were at that age. We weren't given leave to rampage around the world alone at 17. They climbed a mountain at the age of eight. Its hard to remember to give them due credit; but they are only children, after all."

Kain looked back at the others, suddenly wishing he had the nerve to join them right away. Instead, he saw all the people he could bear least in the world to face: Edge, who he couldn't stand; Yang, who had never been able to fully trust him; Rydia, who had watched him betray his best friend twice; Edward, who he barely knew after all this time; Palom and Porom, who he could only remember as being afraid of him. He suddenly longed to belong with them. But he was suddenly terrified to try.

"How long is everyone here for?"

"A few days, mostly; just until the weekend. The twins and their friends are staying until Monday morning, as always."

"A bit longer than usual."

"Anything, to get them out of Mysida for a while. They left on a two year journey, returning only once or twice in that time. We were surprised they chose to go back at all. We would have made them stay with us, if they weren't so hardheaded."

"...I seem to still be missing something."

"I've told you plenty. If you want to know more of their story, I suggest you ask them. Or anyone else here. They'll laugh at you for purposefully being so absent, but they will tell you. Who knows? They may even be glad to see you out of your shell. You may not like to think it, but you are still a Light Warrior, and you do belong with us. No one else can support you like we can."

"That is true... Very well, then. For you, I will try this time to be social."

"I'm glad to hear it. There's a hole where you should be, and we all feel it. They will welcome you, if you try. Even Edge."

"That's a stretch, Cecil."

"I'm a paladin," he answered with a shrug. "Hoping for the impossible is what I do best."

"Then I will do what I can to meet the impossible."

2222222222

It was two days earlier than was normal; but with everyone already there and settled, the twins were told to open their presents the next afternoon. It was a common complaint that they were treated as a real prince and princess, but it was always brushed aside. Any other royal child could have expected mountains of diplomatic gifts, silver and gold and gleaming jewels, and feasts that could last for days. But that was far from what Palom and Porom ever received. They never got a mountain of meaningless things, from kings and queens trying to impress them. From their close circle of friends, who loved them dearly, they only ever received things that mattered. And they were received privately, quietly, and joyously.

Because, of course, they would have otherwise been forgotten entirely on their birthday.

Their first gift turned out to be the crate they had brought from Mysidia. All the kings and queens had contributed money to buy them new training equipment, which they always sorely needed by their birthday. Inside, they found fighting staffs of fire-hardened wood, infused with magical power-fire for Palom, and healing force for Porom. They also found daggers with solid jade handles, and new books on their favorite subjects.

Very best of all, at the very bottom, there was a robe of azure and gold, and another of white and red.

Porom had nearly cried, and Palom was at a loss for words. All these things were Mysidian made. No Mysidian citizen in their right minds would have sold them these wonderful things, even if someone's life had depended on it. But, apparently, the pockets of four kings couldn't be wrong.

With that wonderful surprise out of the way, Edward insisted that his gift be next. The twins were cautiously optimistic about this. Edward always gave them unusual gifts-_inspired _was the word he liked to use-that often seemed useless. Every year, for some reason, they expected him to give them musical instruments; but he never did.

This year, he had a few small things for them. He surprised them greatly by presenting them first with a pair of reed pipes.

"You said last year that it was strange I never thought to do this," he explained with a cheeky grin. "So I decided to resolve that. Are you pleased?"

"Hm," Palom mused, looking his little pipe over enthusiastically. "Never too late to pick up a new hobby."

"I shall take that as a yes. For you, Porom, I have this."

He handed her a small folded piece of plum velvet, tied with a gold silk ribbon. She quickly opened it to reveal a roughly cut, unpolished chunk of amethyst, twined in bronze wire, strung on a fine chain.

"A trader brought this to us several months ago," he explained while she admired it. "There were many impressive pieces in his wares, already fashioned and ready for sale. However, as I looked though his unfinished odds and ends, I came across this amethyst and fell in love with it; it reminded me of you in an instant. Pure and perfect, all on its own. He thought it was strange that I should want it as it was, but I needed it. You had to own it."

"Oh, he didn't know what he was talking about," she insisted, putting it around her neck. "Its beautiful!"

"I did the wire work, myself."

"Another side job of yours?" Palom teased, helping his sister with the clasp.

"Not really. It was just something I wanted to do, for a young woman I admire greatly."

"I don't suppose you've got something else up your sleeve, for a young man you admire greatly?"

"As a matter of fact, I do."

Before Porom could smack him for being rude, Palom was handed another package wrapped in purple velvet. Unwrapping it, he found another book. It was smaller than the thick Mysidian tome from the crate, and looked worn with age, use, and love.

"This was one of my study guides, from when I was your age. Look inside."

"Ooh, look at that," he said, flipping through the pages, hoping he didn't sound too doubtful. "...Music."

"For your new pipe, of course. This guide is on the bard magic I practice-the art of combating monsters with music. The tunes you will find here are for battling other magical creatures: witches and warlocks and their ilk."

"Oh, neat. I don't read music, though."

"Well then, you shall need to visit me in Damcyan, for lessons!"

"Might I be next?" Yang asked in his mannerly way. "I have something that may be of particular interest to Palom."

Palom took his gift with a quizzical look. It was a long, thin pouch of thick, richly painted silk; the kind that people use to safely carry reading glasses. Wondering what that said of how people saw him, he opened the pouch was was relieved to not find reading glasses. Instead, he pulled out a long cord of red silk, adorned with charms of jade, amber, and solid silver.

"Another year, another few inches. I thought it might be useful, soon," Yang explained with a knowing wink.

"Awesome! You're right, this one is almost done," he agreed, tugging his braid. "And its red-so much better than the brown one they gave me. They said it matched my hair. Whatever. _Boring_."

"Well, _they _clearly do not know you as we do. I'm pleased that you like it."

"Porom, I'm going to need your help with a new braid, later."

She shook her head. "And I just did that one yesterday. Such a waste."

"Cheer up, little one. I have something for you, as well," Yang said, handing her a similar package.

Inside, she found three new writing quills, each crafted from a different chocobo plume. There was a glittering gold, a jet black that shone with blue highlights, and a white that seemed to shimmer with all the colors of the rainbow. There were even two small packages of red and black powder, for mixing ink.

"I think we all know, by now, you always need more for writing down notes and grand thoughts. You must promise me, that when you begin writing your own great tomes, you will use these."

"And I'll think of you with every word," she agreed, leaping up to hug him.

Edge came sidling forward next, looking nonchalant, carrying two boxes in one arm.

"Yeah, all that's just dandy," he drawled, "but you haven't seen our presents yet."

Beside him, Rydia gave his arm a hard punch.

"Edge!" she hissed with a warning glare, and snatched one of the boxes. Assuming her usual sisterly smile, she handed her box to Porom, and Edge handed his to Palom.

"Happy birthday, kids," she said. "I have to warn you though, we're not sure which one is which. _Somebody _didn't think to label them in any discernible way."

"You shouldn't have left me in charge of it, _dear_."

"I was busy keeping your daughter from ruining our carpet, _dear_."

"Not my fault, she gets it from _your _side of the family."

Palom couldn't help but laugh, his present momentarily forgotten. "Geez, you two can't even give someone a birthday present without a little entertainment can you?"

"Reminds me of someone I know," Porom added, giving her brother a warning glare of her own.

"I know," he agreed, grinning back at her. On his other side, Bethany also began to laugh.

"So, this is what married life is going to be like?"

"No, no, not at all," he insisted quickly. "Its going to be way more fun."

"Oh goody, I'm _so _reassured. Open it, already!"

The twins finally opened the boxes, and pulled out another set of mage's robes-these in their usual colors of red and green, embroidered from top to bottom in gold threads, in the foreign characters of Eblanese writing. However, it certainly seemed that they had been handed the wrong boxes. Palom had the green robe, and Porom had the red; the sizes would not have suited them in the least.

"Palom, I think this one was supposed to be yours," Porom giggled, handing the red robe to her brother.

"I dunno," he answered, holding the green robe against himself. "Bet I could pull this off, don't you think?"

"I think you would look like you raided my closet. Now hand it over."

"Alright, alright, here you go."

Porom couldn't wait. She slipped on her robe at once, appreciating the feel of the fine material against her skin. It was like a combination of silk and velvet, and it was exquisite. It had seemed like it should be as heavy as it was regal; in fact, it was very light and airy. It suited her frame well, though was slightly big, meant to be worn over the robes of her order. She paused to look specifically at the wide sleeves, intricate symbols stitched all along the hems, though she couldn't read them.

"The kanji are for various forms of protection," Edge explained, a little more serious. "Along the bottom, they stand for speed; along the sides and back, for defense; along the neckline, for wisdom; and here on the sleeves, for concentration. But the incantations are different for each of you. I picked them, myself."

"With a little help from his wife-an actual mage," Rydia added shortly. "We chose them together. They're ancient ninjitsu incantations. Many of the ones we chose predate the crystals."

"Whoa," Porom whispered, thoroughly awed. "That's amazing."

"Stuff that ancient isn't for playing around with," Palom added, examining the kanji more closely. "That's a lot of power."

"That's a lot of honor," she continued. "Thank you."

"I don't think 'thank you' can begin to cover it. Its just so... Wow."

"Yes," Edge agreed, "Its very wow. You don't come across stuff like this every day. Very few people in the world get to wear robes like this."

"And now, you do. We know they won't allow you to wear your colors in Mysidia; that doesn't stop you from wearing these. Wear these robes proudly. Let them know, no matter what colors they wear, they haven't earned the right to wear the the robes of an Eblani high mage."

Palom beamed at them, his eyes a little glassy. "That is so extremely full of wow, its not even funny anymore."

"Yeah," Porom agreed sheepishly, "that's really all there is to say."

There was a moment of reverent silence, as the whole gathering paused to appreciate this very special gift. Eblan's king and queen were often dysfunctional, but in this instance they were both right-very few of the world's many mages were allowed to wear these particular robes, even in Eblan. They were rare and special, and their bestowment was a sign of honor and deep trust.

And now, Palom and Porom, the unclean, nameless orphans, were the only mages in Mysidia to have them. The other mages were surely going to be indignant and furious. The twins glanced at each other, silently communicating that these robes were never to be worn where others could see them; the only things it could generate would be disaster and heartbreak.

"We also had things for you," Bethany said brightly, though she suddenly seemed a little shy. "Nothing as fancy as any of this, but-"

"What? No, nonsense," Palom insisted as he put his robe back in its box. "You probably have the best present."

"The two of you just got a bunch of pretty awesome stuff. I don't know if this can top it all."

"We're not kings, after all," Ivri added cautiously.

"No, Palom's right, that's complete nonsense. Come on, you guys, its not a contest," Porom said briskly as she sat back down, turning all her attention on her friends.

"Well... Its not much," Ivri mumbled as he reached into his pocket. "But I did bring you this."

"Oh, and I brought you this," Bethany added, and handed Porom a small box of her own.

Porom found Ivri's gift in her hand first-a long, somewhat flat rectangular box wrapped carefully in delicate paper-and so opened it first. Inside she found mother of pearl barettes, ivory hair combs, and satin ribbons with glass beads sewn in shimmering patterns across them.

"You always complain that your best hairpieces go missing, exactly when you want most to wear them. I thought to help you replenish."

She beamed back at him, holding the box close to her heart.

"Ivri, you are the sweetest guy in the world." While he blushed and glanced away, she leaned close and kissed his face. "Thank you."

"Um, yes," he stammered, his face growing redder and redder. "Happy birthday."

Porom moved to open Bethany's gift, but she suddenly stopped her. "Wait, wait, you and Palom have to open mine together. I want to see the looks on your faces. In the meantime, I have this for you, my dear."

In front of Palom, she placed two items: a box like the one she had given his sister, and a leather drawstring pouch. Picking up the second item, he felt something relatively heavy inside.

"...This one, right?"

"Yeah, quickly!"

Excited, he opened the pouch and dumped the contents into his other hand. A gleaming gold pocket watch fell out, dragging an equally gold chain with it.

"But wait, there's more. Open the watch!"

Palom flicked the watch open and, finally understanding, found a clock on either side. The left side had been preset to Mysidian time; the right side, he noticed, had been set about three hours earlier, to Baron time.

"So I can keep track of the time back home when I'm gone, like _I'm _always complaining."

"That's the idea. You like?"

"Very much," he agreed, also giving her a quick, thankful kiss. "Thanks."

She regarded him sweetly. "I know you've been admiring that one for a while, now. No one back home would sell it to you, not in a million years. Just means I have to be sneaky."

He sat back a little, looking utterly amazed. "Man, do I love you. Guys, do I have the best girlfriend, or what? Honestly, who needs a bunch of tacky mages to like them, when they can have friends like this?"

"Calm yourself down, brother; there's one more left, remember?" Porom gestured to the table, where Bethany's other present lay waiting before them. Again, Bethany looked ready to jump out of her skin from anticipation. The twins picked up their gifts together and opened the lids to peer inside. At the same time they pulled out small but large orbs, twisted in gleaming candy wrappers.

Knowing at once which candies these were, their faces lit up.

"No way! These are, like, the best things in the whole world! We only see them once every couple of years!"

"Bethany, how on the Blue Planet did you do it?"

"Oh, a little bird told me that you gained a liking for them, thanks to the Troians. I... May have sneaked one or two from the shipment, for myself; I can see why you like them so much."

"Our _favorites_," Porom agreed. "But they're only made in Troia, and having them shipped anywhere is so expensive."

"We haven't had them since the last time we were there-nearly two years ago."

"And," Bethany added with a smirk, "they do say the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. And, seeing as I'm a terrible cook..."

"An awesome finale, to another great birthday," Palom agreed. "Seriously, you guys are the best."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute, I do not believe the gift giving is quite done, I do believe there is one more."

Cecil's voice came from the back of the assembly, where he and Rosa had been unusually quiet and almost forgotten, seeming happy enough to revel in everyone else's good time. They made their way to the front, and... Kain came forward with them, which was also unusual.

"Would you like to do the honors?" Rosa asked her mysterious friend.

Kain cleared his voice and approached the table, handing a set of keys to Palom with an odd look on his face. Like he was optimistic, but unsure of himself.

"I suppose you could say this is from the three of us, to both of you."

Porom leaned closer to her brother to look at the keys. It was a whole ring of them, five or six in total, brassy, silvery, and golden, each with a different pattern of teeth.

"There was to be an extra set," Cecil said apologetically, "but the locksmith wasn't quite finished. We couldn't keep waiting on him, though. We'll have the copies sent to you as soon as they're done."

"What do they go to?" Porom asked.

"To one of our guest suites," Rosa answered, beaming. "Seeing as you come and go so frequently, we decided you ought to have an actual place to stay. Set aside just for you. You're both free to use it however often you like, for as long as you please. It will always be available to you."

"You'll find everything in order, when you see it. There is a small study adjoining it, and a stocked cooking area as well-I think we all know Porom needs that. These keys will unlock all the doors and cabinets. You'll also find we took the liberty of having your things moved into it, while you've been busy," Cecil elaborated, not bothering to attempt a straight face.

"So, what do you think?"

At first, Porom thought to insist that such troubles were unnecessary on their part. She also thought to point out that it was a thinly veiled plea for them to leave Mysidia for good, and take up permanent residence in Baron, like the king and queen had always wanted them to. They always found a way to bring it up, each more clever and tempting than the last.

Before she could say any of that, Palom sprang up and ran around the table to hug them. She knew it was more than exactly what he wanted for his birthday.

"You guys spoil us rotten."

"Its what you wanted," Rosa answered, returning the hug.

"And we felt you should have it," Cecil added. "You've more than earned it."

Ah. So they knew, as well. Porom suddenly wondered... Had he asked them for this? She glanced sideways at each of her friends, wondering if they felt this gifts was as ominous as she thought it was. For the moment, they just looked touched. Maybe even a little relieved that there was a place in a real home set aside for them, whenever they chose to take advantage of it.

She also glanced at Kain, who was normally passive and dubious about gatherings like this. Everyone else was staring at him as well, unused to him being so present in their activities. They all had the same expression of pleasant surprise and confusion-except for Edge, who just looked exasperated.

Funny. She had always gotten the impression that Kain objectively disliked her and her twin for some reason. She always got the impression that he didn't approve of them coming and going from the castle the way that they did. Now, that they had been offered their own quarters in the castle, he seemed at peace. Even cautiously optimistic about it. Perhaps he had changed his mind recently?

Cecil probably had something to do with that.

_A dangerous proposition, _she thought. _Now that its been offered... How much longer can we bear to last, before we leave our beloved friends, and the man who raised us? Will we even bear to leave, when the weekend passes...?_

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Author's Notes...

Some of these gifts will come in extremely handy, before the journey's end. ;)


	4. Chapter 3: Death Day

In a shocking twist, Rosa has a personality. And great arms.

I hope it shows that I envision the action in the style of the 8-bit GBA game. With occasional movie scenes from the DS game. Only with better dialogue and an actual caliber of character development.

It also occurs to me that Palom and Porom might ned a new theme song. I wonder what their original song is like in a minor key... Probably horrendous. I keep thinking something mysterious and exciting, like nearly anything Lindsey Stirling has recorded. I... Have her CD on continuous loop as I write...

Finally, upon studying Shakespeare's "The Merchant of Venice", I have come to the undeniable conclusion that the drama between Tellah, Anna, and Edward has its roots in this play. Tellah IS Shylock; and would Shylock by any other name smell as sweet? XD

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_Chapter 3: Death Day_

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A few more days passed nicely, and the twin's actual birthday was met with more private celebration by the Light Warriors. Even though they hadn't been able to attend the first few days, stragglers arrived in time to celebrate with them: king Giott and his daughter, Luca, had come from the Underworld to see everyone; they seldom got a chance, even when people gathered for convention, but the princess had always been fond of the twins, and they of her. Anita, the eldest of the Troian clerics, had also arrived in time for the actual birthday party, and brought more of the fabled candies as gifts. Luckily, she had though to bring enough to share with everyone.

And Kain had been mightily surprised to find that he enjoyed the company of his fellow heroes, just as his best friend had said he would. Even with small princes and princesses getting underfoot, it wasn't as insufferable as he had always expected it would be. He was even mildly delighted to see Rhys getting along with the other children, even though he was the youngest of them.

Granted, Edge spent a lot of time teasing him for being so absent; but Rydia usually made up for it by punching her husband as hard as she could, and insisting that it was a relief to see Kain out of his shell. She seemed to genuinely mean it; and even if she didn't, she made intelligent and sparkling conversation whenever she could. It certainly put him at ease.

He also made every honest attempt to speak personally with the birthday boy and girl, and came to the decided conclusion that they were not the boy and girl he remembered. They spoke often of magic, of course; but also of their future plans to continue traveling, and of current events that fascinated them. Palom even spoke of vague notions to become a teacher. Maybe even at the academy in Baron, seeing as the king and queen had just handed him a permanent residence.

He came to learn a great deal of their companions, as well. That Bethany the redheaded red mage decidedly wanted to be a teacher in a foreign country, and so spent a lot of her time networking with the kings. That Ivri the white mage played the guitar and was a decent composer in his free time, and had already formed a friendship with Edward, therefore. At one point, Kain had joined in a conversation the young man had been carrying on with Yang, about the state of musical education in Mysidia.

"They haven't bought new books in ages. All our theory books are outdated, and scribbled with notes from easily a hundred previous classes," Ivri had said, very displeased. "Its all the same sacred stuff, over and over again. They do exactly the same thing every year. And it keeps getting worse."

So it seemed that the newcomers made excellent matches for the twins. He heard a rumor somewhere, that Palom seriously intended to marry his girlfriend someday, when he was better off and had hope of a home to take her to. Kain had always known the boy was ambitious, but the idea that he could be so steady shattered his paradigm yet again. This was definitely not the same child who used to throw peas at him.

And, if nothing else had been a success, it was a birthday party-which meant there would be cake. It had been an apple cake, spiced with cinnamon and drenched in caramel and whipped cream. It was apparently a favorite of the twins', and a choice no one else could be disappointed with. It was also a recipe that Rosa had developed herself. Seeing it never failed to please anybody.

It had been a decidedly good day. The first party Kain had been to worth attending. He had really, honestly enjoyed himself. The next day, however, most of their friends had returned home; they usually stayed the weekend, but they had already stayed for the better part of the week. He was actually sad to see some of them go so soon.

Cecil was sure to bombard him with "I told you so"s, later.

The twins and their companions were staying for the weekend, though. That suddenly suited Kain just fine. He had enjoyed their company so far, and was looking forward to keeping them around for a while. Especially Porom. He found that it was her, of all the heroes, who seemed to understand him best. He had found that they thought on a similar wavelength, both priding themselves on being highly logical and practical, and sharing a rather dry sense of humor. A stark contrast to her firy, often obnoxious brother.

"There is a caring side to him," she had insisted. "Considering the way he normally is, its very sweet when it comes out. He's a good brother. I wouldn't trade him for anyone else in the world."

The morning after everyone else had left, Kain rose early for his morning practice. The younger, more flirtatious maids in the castle commented that he didn't need the work outs he put himself through every morning, but he knew better. He had worked very hard to attain the level he had reached, and he would be damned if he didn't keep it in place.

He walked down the shadowy corridor from his quarters, intent on the stairs that would lead him to one of the many training yards. It was too early for many others to be about yet. He would have been surprised if any of the other dragoons were even out yet. It was the time of day he liked best. It was almost like he had the whole castle to himself. And, after the bustle of the last few days, it was nice to have the silence. Even if he had enjoyed the noise.

Walking down the corridor took him past the suit the twins had been moved into. He didn't particularly expect either of them to be awake yet; it was now the weekend, and they had little of importance to do on their vacation. However, as he passed the door, he stopped. It sounded like someone was crying bitterly nearby. He backpedaled a bit and trained his ear, startled to hear the crying was coming from within the twins' room.

He pressed his ear to the door, trying to discern which of the twins was crying, and if the other was saying anything explanatoryin consolation. He gleaned nothing, and so was very confused. He even dared to be a little concerned.

"Its Death Day."

Kain whirled around to see Bethany walking toward him, still in her night-clothes, with an impossibly somber face. He couldn't believe she had stolen upon him so easily. It was easy to see how Palom might like such a sneaky young lady.

For the moment, he was just perplexed.

Keeping her voice low, Bethany sighed and explained with her eyes cast down in sorrow. "17 years ago today, only a few hours ago, their mother passed away. No one knows why-she had been perfectly healthy carrying them, and there were no compilations with the birth, and she had been recovering quite normally. And then she just... Died. Our Elder was always very kind to her, and came to like her very much; so when she died, he adopted them as his own. But he has never been able to replace her, or the father no one's ever been able to find.

"So, every year on the third day, they wake early, lock themselves away, and just cry for hours. They take turns, one weeping while the other comforts, and then switch. Every year their turns last a minute longer, one minute for every year that's passed."

Kain blanched. "That is... Bizarre. "

"Its a ritual they've fabricated for themselves. Its terrible, but its how they mourn. We all grieve in different ways, sir. Is it that surprising, that such strange people come to it in such a strange way?"

She rested the side of h head against the door and sighed again. "They never let anyone mourn with them. Palom is too stuborn and proud to let anyone else share that pain, and Porom would never impose on anyone to ask. Not even us. Not even the man who raised them. I imagine it must be very lonely, even though they are together. I wish they would let me in..."

Also keeping his voice low, he commented, "I understand they are not well liked in Mysidia. Is it because of... This?"

"Partly, I suppose. There are several reason that make no sense. Their mother's sudden passing seemed an ill omen. She came to our city driven from her mind with trauma we were never able to get to the bottom of; and she had no husband to speak for her. Our citizens didn't care what her circumstances may have been. They decided that she was unfit to be in our city, and so would be her children. Ivri and I don't believe that is right. We aren't particularly well liked, because of that."

"Death Day must be horrendous, in Mysidia. "

To that, Bethany gave a weak, rueful smile. "They're never in town for Death Day. Usually, they're here, where the few people who do know about their past are understsnding. Usually... Ivri and I end up taking the brunt of it. We've been their friends for a very long time. We are the next best thing."

"...You allow them to treat you that way on the twins' account?"

"Its what happens, when you dare to love someone who everyone else despises. You take a lot of punches, especially when your beloved isn't around to take them personally."

Kain was silent, letting that settle into his skin. He supposed he had more in common with the twins than he had thought. Most of his recent success had only to do with his own friends taking a chance on him. He had put up with his fair share of cruelty from the citizens of Baron; but Cecil had always been there to defend him, and Rosa was always quick to snap at people when they were offensive. He wondered, then, how many nasty comments had been aimed directly at them, for taking such a risk, while his back had been turned. For daring to trust him again, after all he had done. Circumstances didn't matter. In the eyes of many people, he was still a traitor and didn't deserve forgiveness, or the titles and posts he had been trusted with.

No. He and the twins were not so different at all.

"It would be wiser to feign oblivion," Bethany warned him, still keeping her voice down. "Its a very personal matter, and they would prefer to keep it private. They would rather no one else ever know about Death Day; I doubt if their majesties even know about it. They won't even talk about it with us. If they knew someone had overheard them, I don't know how they would react."

"Such a powerful pair of people would act with that much blind emotion?"

"Every other day of the year, they are courageous enough for all of Mysidia, twice over and more. On the anniversary of their own mother's death, I think we can allow them a moment of weakness."

"What will you do, then, until they come out?"

"Wait. This is the first Death Day I will have spent with them in a long time. I would advise you to carry on from here, and forget you ever heard them."

That was a politely phrased dismissal, from a guardian he had no real desire to test. Kain nodded goodbye, and turned to find his way to the courtyard as before. However, he knew there was no way to forget what had been heard; and he suspected she knew as much, too.

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Several hours later, unaware that Kain had ever been near their room, Palom and found himself in another of the castle's many courtyards, surrounded by a series of archery targets. Rosa had been attempting to teach him and his sister the art for years, though they had little chance to practice during the rest of the year. Mysidia was the city of magic, and physical training was largely discouraged. After fighting alongside mages who could double as warriors, the twins had learned that the city's hallowed tactics were foolish.

Though Ivri was less than physically inclined, Bethany had jumped at the chance to train with a real weapon. Even for a red mage, her physical capabilities were sub par. It was a fact which she disliked intensely, though no respectable member of her family would sanction her further training.

However, Rosa Farrel Harvey stood before her, and her parents were three timezones away. And the queen would have none of their Mysidian nonsense. She had rarely been to the city for training, and she proudly agreed that there was good reason for that. She had handed Bethany a beginner's bow and some practice arrows, and gotten straight to work.

"Archery is time-honored as a woman's defense," the queen explained. "It is a long range sport, enabling women and mages both to fight from a distance, without being in direct line of danger. And a good sniper can help prevent a confrontation before it ever begins. It is one of the most useful forms of combat there is, I think you will find.

"Not to mention, you have the perfect height and build for it. You will take to it quickly. Go on, take a practice shot."

Thrilled, Bethany clumsily knocked an arrow to her bow and drew the string back as far as she could; not very far, she was annoyed to find. She attempted to aim for the bullseye several yards away. But when she released the arrow, her control suddenly faltered and it ended up embedded in the ground, not far from her, and a few feet to the side.

She felt discouraged, but Palom patted her shoulder.

"No worries, its always harder the first few times. And you're closer than Porom was: her first arrow ended up stuck in a tree, and a bunch of her other early attempts nearly hit people."

Bethany gulped nervously. That didn't bode very well...

"He's right, its all about practice and concentration, " Rosa agreed, coming to stand behind her. She placed her hands on the girls shoulders, moving her fingers across different muscles as she spoke.

For a white mage, the woman's hands were rough from diligent work, and her grip was steady but firm.

"These are your biceps on top, the biggest muscles in your arms; and these are your triceps, smaller but equally as powerful. Focus all your power into them, and raise your bow."

Bethany did as she was told, concentrating hard on her upper arms, and surprising herself by finding a much greater control over them this way.

"Now imagine that these muscles adjoin to your shoulders like a hinge. Lift your bow up and down, isolating those muscles, feeling the hinge, focusing all your strength on it."

Again, she did as she was told. The increase in her control was a welcome relief.

"Bearing all this in mind, take another arrow and try it again."

This time, focusing as hard as she could on her upper arms and using them to hold the bow steady, she actually hit the target. It was nowhere near the bullseye, but it cheered her so greatly that she squealed with delight.

"I could be really good at this," she remarked proudly.

Smiling after the girl's success, Rosa took her own impressive longbow from her shoulder for her turn. For a healer and a queen, her arms were amazingly shaped. Her biceps were huge for such a willowy woman, and beautifully defined as she pulled back the bowstring. She took aim carefully, not overestimating herself for a second, and her brow furrowed in concentration. When she released the arrow, it sang through the air and planted itself in the dead center of the bullseye.

Lowering her bow, she made a face. "I'm a little rusty. It shouldn't have taken so long to aim that shot properly..."

Bethany decided that the queen was just being modest, for her sake.

"Palom, how are you and Porom at this? You've got to be tons better than me, by now, though I've never seen you in action before."

"Well, I'll admit my sister is better than I could ever be. But check this action out."

Palom raised his own bow, which was bigger than hers, but by no means like the longbow the queen used. Using the same practice Rosa had just imparted, he lined up his shot. It reached the second ring, just outside the bullseye, and he grinned with satisfaction.

"Not bad at all. I dunno, though, I still like a good old fashioned whack over the head with a blunt object, myself."

"Still, a good skill to have," Rosa chastised, sounding used to this. "In certain moments, a well aimed long distance shot can save your behind. Seeing as someone is firmly interested in it, it would be a shame if it were damaged."

The two youngsters laughed at that. Coming from almost anyone else, it would have been appalling. Coming from Rosa, who was like an older sister to him, it was bluntly honest and quite amusing.

"Though, if its blunt force trauma you want, you're better off talking to Cecil and Kain. They could tell you all about that and never get tired of it," she continued.

"Where are they, anyway?" Bethany wondered, thinking back to her encounter with the dragoon that morning.

"And where did my silly sister and her beau run off to?" Palom said suspiciously, looking around with a wary eye. "If that doofus is putting the moves on her where I can't see, he'll be sorry."

Bethany laughed and laid a hand on his arm. "Oh yes, _dangerous _Ivri is seducing your sister. I think you can trust them, dear."

He beamed back at her, always pleased when she called him by a pet name in public. "Hey, its my job to worry. There's a fox sleeping under her skin, I can feel it. It just hasn't had a reason to wake up recently. Ivri can rouse it in ways I can never expect... I like the guy just fine, but I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"Well, maybe we should go and find them all. I thought they would join us out here, and they never did."

"It is unusual," Rosa agreed, glancing at the door as if she expected her husband to come through it at any second. '

"I wonder what could be keeping them?"

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At the same moment, Ivri found himself in a rare place that he had been hoping for. He finally had the king to himself for a moment, while Porom was distracted with Kain. They had struck up a conversation nearby, and now the boy had the chance he had been waiting for.

Probably sensing that he had something to say, Cecil gave him a welcoming smile and broke their rather awkward silence.

"I really can't tell you how great it is to finally meet you, and Bethany, too. We've heard too many stories and praises. They didn't do either one of you justice, you know."

Finally being comfortable with the paladin, Ivri managed not to blush too badly. "Thank you, sir. In turn, we've heard many stories about you. I saw you once, during the war, in the scramble when the Whale was brought out of the ocean. Well, I don't imagine there were many people who didn't see you. You, and your wife, and everyone... You all seem just like you did then. Powerful, but benevolent."

"Well, I thank you, young man. ...Was there something you wished to say to me?"

"As a matter of fact, there is. I fear to seem intrusive, but... Porom is extremely fond of you, and you of her."

"Overly fond, some have said. They saved my life, in more ways than one. They helped me change my life. If I am overly fond of them, I see no reason why that should be a bad thing."

"Not in a fatherly way, but as a brother. You look out for them, and guard them. And they hold your opinion in high regard. You hold no authority over them; but you have the power to change their lives, in your turn."

Cecil smirked knowingly. "What is it you want of me?"

Ivri took a deep breath, willing himself not to beat any further around the bush.

"It is a dialogue which Palom and I have agreed to keep open, until the day arrives. It is very near to both of us... Your majesty, I am also very fond of Porom."

"So I've noticed."

"I do intend to marry her one day."

Cecil raised his eyebrows in pleasant surprise, though he had probably anticipated it the whole time.

"She is the woman I had always wished for. I loved her first as a dear friend, and now as the one I wish to be responsible for. Her brother gave me his blessing a long time ago. However, you are her brother as much as he is; and so, I have felt compelled to seek your blessing, as well."

The paladin eyed him carefully, looking touched and not at all unsure. Then he closed his eyes and sighed happily.

"There is a wonderful story of love and loss in our circle, involving blessings that were never given," he mentioned. "If there is anything to be taken from king Edward's tale, it is that such blessings are not to be taken lightly. I'm glad that you didn't have to save the world in order to learn that basic truth. I can't deny that I am honored, that you would think to ask it of me."

"...Then, I have your blessing?"

"Ten thousand-fold," the king agreed, placing his hands firmly on the boy's shoulders. "I can think of no other, to entrust this treasure with. I know you will take care of her, as the rest of us have."

Ivri beamed back, relieved and overjoyed. "Thank you, sir. It means the world to me."

"And to me. Thank you, for being so brave. Its not an affair to trifle with, nor is she."

"Porom is a force of nature. She just hasn't had a reason to be in a while. I love that about her."

Cecil laughed merrily and clapped the boy on the back, earning confused glances from the others nearby.

"Welcome to the family, white mage Ivri of Mysidia. You're going to fit in just fine with us."

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A while later, Porom and Ivri strolled through the castle gardens, completely alone for the first time all week. She found it a wonder that Palom hadn't tracked them down yet. It was a rather sad day, after all; she hadn't expected to get away from him so easily.

She wondered if they had simply managed to avoid him by a miracle, or if he had purposefully left them some space so he could be equally alone with his own girlfriend.

"How are you feeling?" Ivri asked after they had walked a while in silence. Of course he knew what day it was. He was one of the few who did, to her knowledge. (She liked to believe that it was still secret from Cecil and Rosa, but she doubted it.) Appreciating his concern, but not wanting to discuss it, she shrugged and changed the topic.

"So, Cecil seems to like you a lot. I told you he would."

"Kain seems to like you a lot. How come I've heard so little about him? He seems like an important piece of your collective puzzle."

"Well, he hasn't been particularly present for many years. I'm sad to say that I don't know him very well; but I'm happy to say that that's finally changing. What exactly did you say, to make Cecil so happy?"

"I'm sorry, Porom, more surprises. I know how you hate them, but I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. "I hate waiting..."

"I see you're wearing my ribbon."

"Yes, thank you," she said, finally flashing him a grin. "Its exactly what I needed."

"Why not wear your colors? You can, here."

She cast her eyes at the ground. "I'm still forbidden, no matter where I am. And I'm terrified to get too attached to it, only to have to hide it forever."

"You're too saintly for your own good. Some rules were made so stupidly, breaking them is all they're good for."

She shook her head. "Its better this way. Really, it is."

He had always imagined that it was hard for her to be cheerful on Death Day, even here, in Baron. He hadn't been able to be with her for it in a long time, but he was glad that he was now. As sorrowful as the occasion was, he refused to let her be so downtrodden all day. There had to be something he could do to cheer her...

He gently pulled her off the paved path, into a loamy flowerbed and behind a thickly covered trellis, earning a confused look. Once they were hidden from sight, he broke his normal rule to be modest and level headed, by embracing her and holding her tightly. She seemed surprised by his sudden show of affection, as he rarely made them; but she slowly relaxed and returned the embrace.

Stupid rules were really only good for being broken, indeed.

"How come you never hold me like this? You're... Really quite good at it."

"I don't want to be too distracted by romance, when there's so much more to being in love with you. Romance is really more of your brother's thing, anyway. I could never be as bold as he is."

"How do you know that? You've never tried."

"I don't want to lose sight of what's important."

She looked up at him, her face imploring.

"You won't. You're too smart for that."

She raised her hand slowly to touch his face, gently running her fingertips over his freckles. She had personally counted each and every one of them, when they were children. He had exactly 53; she knew them so well, she could have called each of them by name.

"Ivri, you'll never know unless you try."

She was leaning closer, and so was he. When they met in the middle, it was just as he had knew it would be: sweet and pure, completely innocent, and so nice he feared he wouldn't be able to stop, now that he had started. They had only kissed a few precious times in the past; it was a potential gateway drug which they agreed frightened them. But there was enough fear in the world, without their fretting.

In fact, he felt perfectly safe. And he knew she did, as well.

When they parted, she rested her head on his shoulder and held him again.

"I'm glad you're here with me today."

"I'm glad I could be. Oh, Porom... I don't tell you often enough how much I love you. But you know I do, right?"

"Always. I don't tell you often enough, either. I love you more than gold."

"More than magic."

"More than freedom."

"More than life."

Porom looked back up again, sort of startled.

"...You really do mean to be my husband someday, don't you?"

"If you'll have me."

For the first time all day, she really, truly smiled. "Before anyone else in all the world."

It was a humbling thought, that she would spend her life in Mysidia, if it was what she had to do to stay by his side. Not that it mattered-the city would never allow such a union, and his mother would never give him any sort of blessing. That didn't matter, either-he had the blessings of his best friend, and of a king, and that spoke louder than anything else ever could.

Cecil was right. He needed no part in legends or wars, to know that the love of a woman was priceless and important, and not to be trifled with. And this woman was more than he ever could have fabricated for himself.

Daring to be hold for a change, he took off his glasses and put them in his pocket, so they wouldn't be in their way when he kissed her again. Slightly more passionate this time, hoping his kiss imparted how strongly he felt. It certainly seemed to-she gladly kissed him back, unhesitant and unafraid.

For a long, lovely moment, they were the strongest alloy in the world.

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"I'm just saying, sis, we should think about it."

"We can't! We still have obligations, you know, and we can't just abandon them. Not when we're so close to fulfilling them."

"Hey, I'm trying to do the right thing, here. Honestly, who would be mad if we never showed up again? Who would miss us?"

"Malachi would be."

"He was probably in on this. It was probably his idea!"

"But to just leave him? Without even a proper goodbye? After _she _left him without any kind of warning, you want to suggest this _today_?"

Porom resumed her nervous pacing, leaving Palom to soak up the jab for everything it was worth. He admitted, he felt a little bad, now that she put it like that. But it wasn't enough to deter him.

"Look, if we have a chance to stay here for as long as we like-as part of a real family in a real home-I see no reason to ever leave again. And you were right, before, we're probably never going to find the people we came from. So this is the next best thing, right? Its close enough, right?"

"You would give up that easily? "

"Giving up was your idea! You said so yourself!"

"I _said_, I don't think we will ever find our parents. Don't put words in my mouth."

"But its what you meant, and you know it."

They stopped and glared at each other, unable to breach this impasse. The staring contest went on for several long seconds, until Porom sighed heavily and stalked to their room's kitchen unit.

"This is getting us nowhere," she complained, going through the cabinets to find cooking equipment. Whenever she was especially upset, she started to cook things. They always seemed to work things out better, when there was a bowl of soup or a plate of cookies between them.

"Well, what should we do, then?" Palom wondered, slumping against the wall. "Don't get me wrong, I don't want to just walk out on the few people who do care. But it just doesn't outweigh self-preservation in my mind. If we have an opportunity to get the heck out, Malachi wouldn't want us to pass it up because of him."

"That still doesn't make it okay. He's a little old man, trying to run an entire city on his own, with a grabby brother and sister trying to wheedle their way into his place. He needs us, Palom. And he's trained you for a reason."

"Not to be the next Elder. Its never going to happen, and you know that, too."

"That doesn't mean we should abandon him to his own dwindling resources. That doesn't mean we should be selfish."

"Spoken like a true white mage."

"No fair!" she cried, slamming a measuring cup on the counter for emphasis. "You always say that when you know I'm right!"

"We're not being selfish, Porom. Quite frankly, we'd be doing the city a favor. All they've ever wanted is for us to leave their precious holy city and never come back."

She paused, considering her next argument carefully.

"...You would leave Bethany behind? Because I have no intention of leaving Ivri."

Palom shrugged. "Its not like they can't get up and leave, if they want to. And you know it wouldn't be forever-they don't particularly like living in Mysidia, either. Anyway, sooner or later, Bethany won't have a choice."

Porom gave him an incredulous look. "You didn't propose while I wasn't looking, did you?"

"No, but I'm going to. Eventually."

Although, as he considered more closely, he finally relented a little bit and sighed.

"I would never ask you to leave him, though. You don't need to travel the world to know there's only one of him. There's only one of her, too. That two years was an annoyingly long time to be without their friendship. Its not an experience I particularly want to relive."

Porom nodded, looking satisfied that she now had the upper, and returned to her measuring.

"But they wouldn't blame us, and I bet they would visit all the time. They would practically live here, like we do. They would need permanent rooms of their own, and we'd all live here together, in the castle, happily ever after."

"Its not that simple," she groaned, annoyed. "Its never that simple."

"I see no reason why it shouldn't be."

At least, it dawned on him, they rarely bickered about unimportant things anymore.

Porom looked ready to rebuke him again, but she was interrupted by a knocking on the door. Since she was busy, Palom went to answer it instead. A footman waited outside, with a usual, unemotional face.

"Good evening, sir," the man greeted. "I hope this does not impose, but their majesties wish to see you and your sister, on the main balcony. They said to come immediately."

"Okay, we'll be there. Thanks."

The footman turned and walked away, and Palom stepped back into the room.

"Porom, we need to go."

"What? Why?"

"Not sure. Apparently, we're needed immediately on the main balcony."

Reluctantly, Porom abandoned her cooking and scribbled a note to leave on their door.

As they walked though the castle, it seemed like there was a shade of worry on many faces they passed. There was a good deal of whispering amongst the staff they saw, but they chose not to let it slow them down. Better to hear the story straight the first time, than to get mixed up in gossip that may not be true.

Climbing the steps to the balcony, they saw clearly that dusk had fallen outside, and that the balcony pillars had been strewn with lit lanterns. Stepping into the open air, they plainly saw Cecil, Rosa, and Kain standing by the railing, silhouetted against the last orange light of the setting sun.

Expecting some sort of greeting, and not getting one, they came to join their friends at the railing.

"Hey, we're here."

"You wanted to see us?"

Cecil wordlessly pointed up into the sky, prompting them to look heavenward. What they saw made them jump in alarm. The murky blue sky was already spangled with stars, and a half moon glowed silver on the land below. But these weren't the only things hanging in the night sky.

The twin moon had reappeared, garishly full and intimidating.

"They travel fast," Kain commented flatly.

"Why should they come back? What more could they want from us?" Porom wondered bitterly.

"I haven't a clue. We can't have evolved that fast," Cecil replied, sounding just as bitter. After all the mayhem they had caused, and all the coldness they regarded human kind with, it was no secret that he cared very little for his father's people.

Not to mention, Palom realized with a twinge, Golbez was up there somewhere...

"How many other people do you suppose have noticed yet? It isn't moonrise everywhere, yet," he pointed out.

"Mysidia is always first," Rosa answered. "But there will be worried letters from all over the place, shortly..."

Porom shrank closer to her brother. Maybe it was just the light of a moon and a half on her face, but she seemed a little pale.

"Palom, we really should be getting back."

"Yeah, we really should. Let's find the others and go. Quickly."

Together they turned and headed back to the stairs. Letting his sister get ahead of him, he turned back to his friends.

"But we _will _be back, don't worry about that."

"We don't doubt that, " Cecil agreed. "Just do what you have to do. We aren't going anywhere."

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Several days passed in a blur of correspondence, appeals to the people of Baron, and chaos. By the end of the fourth day, Cecil was exhausted. If only there was a way to get up there again, without having to haul the massive Lunar Whale from its tomb in the sea. It was a process he didn't want to have to repeat.

Anyway, he was certain that if the Lunarians had returned, one of them would turn up on their own, eventually.

He just feared which one that would be. He sincerely hoped that it would be a stranger, this time...

Finally, that evening, he sensed the presence he had been expecting but dreading. Leaving the letter he had been working on, he rose and went as quickly as he could to the battlements. If anyone guessed what was going on, the unexpected guest was likely to be impaled on the spot. And if experience was true, even Lunarians could bleed.

Not so different from humans at all.

Stalking the battlements, all the guards on duty stood at attention at their posts; but they were all trying to watch the scene unfolding at the front gate. Peering down, Cecil saw the guards at the gate having a heated argument with a stranger, whose shaggy hair appeared to be dark purple in color

"We cannot allow you access to this castle," on of the guards was insisting, bracing himself for defense.

"Please, I beg you," the man said desperately, holding his hands up to deflect them. "I must speak with the king."

"Not without a summons. We order you to leave this place at once!"

"But you don't understand-"

"We're not paid to understand. We will use force to remove you, if we must."

"Wait," Cecil called down to them, earning their undivided attention.

"Let this man in. Have someone escort him to my study. I shall meet with him there."

The guards saluted him, pulling the lever that activated the portcullis. As one of them ushered the man inside, Cecil locked eyes with the man for the first time in what didn't seem like long enough a time. Prying himself away, he made his way back into the castle.

He had feared that this day might come, if he waited long enough.

Perhaps, though, he had feared more that it would never come at all.

He arrived at his study to find that the man had beaten him there, accompanied by another guard. The guard stood at attention, attempting to look unemotional inside his helmet. The man stood awkwardly in the center of the room, trying to wait patiently. When Cecil entered the study, the mood managed to become even more awkward as he and his guest locked eyes once again.

Those eyes hadn't changed, in all this time.

"Leave us," he told the guard, gesturing to the door, without looking away. The guard nodded his head thankfully and took his leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

And now they were alone in a room together. They had never been completely alone before. In another time, it would have been the makings of a great battle. Today, it was just awkward and tense. Cecil had no idea what he was supposed to say. He slowly walked to stand beside his guest, still unable to look away from those unfathomable eyes.

"...Cecil."

"...Theodore."

Well, it was a start.

"What brings you back so soon?"

Theodore gave the barest hint of a smirk. "You've grown a sense of humor."

Cecil didn't answer, unsure what his brother meant by that.

"I... I'm afraid I find myself in need of a paladin's help. Perhaps... Even in need of a brother's help."

"Well... That's is what I'm here for. I don't suppose you'd mind explaining, first?"

This time, Theodore harumphed. "I suppose you deserve one. We've caused a great upheaval, I shouldn't wonder."

Cecil stared back flatly in response.

"I'm afraid that things on the moon have not gone as well as we had hoped. Our uncle promised me peace, through the meditation of a long slumber. However..."

"It hasn't."

The older, darker man looked away, unable to hide the shame that hadn't budged since they had last met. If it was possible, he looked more ashamed of himself than before.

"I don't belong there. Our father may have been one of them, but we are not him. If my time on the moon has taught me anything, it is that Lunarians make poor counselors."

Theodore began to slowly walk around the space, idly observing things on the walls, the shelves, the desks.

"You've built quite a life in my absents, brother."

"Nine years is a lot of time to do things."

He pick a framed portrait up from the corner of the desk to examine it, and smiled vaguely at it.

"Rosa," he commented. "She looks exactly the same as I remember. A rare beauty and a gentle heart, cleverly disguising a worthy opponent. In her way, she peeved me as much as you did."

"You were living with her, day and night. Of course she peeved you."

"Now, now, I only just got back, and already you're throwing rocks at me?"

"I call it like I see it. Honesty is a virtue."

"Sense of humor, indeed."

They had never been at such ease before; Cecil was tempted to laugh out loud, and couldn't help a smile. He stood beside his brother again, taking his wife's portrait and replacing it on the desk.

"So, after nine years of failed meditation, the Lunarians agreed to come all the way back to return you?"

"To dump me here, is more like it, and it was largely their suggestion. Though they slumber deeply, they maintain their telepathic hive mind, yes?"

"Yes, I remember."

"The same weakness in my blood enables me to access that consciousness, to be a part of it. Yet, as soon as I had joined it, it made very clear that I was not welcome. If it had a choice, or an active hand to force its will, it would have barred me from it entirely, to spend my meditation in solitude."

"Why?" Cecil demanded, willing to be indignant that their father's own people would reject his brother.

Theodore looked back at him sadly. "Because I am not enough like them for their liking. I am too human, and therefore a lesser being. They believe my mind is too weak and underdeveloped to understand as they do, and so for the most part they have refused to help me."

Now Cecil was puzzled. "Our uncle said they would welcome you. You were glad for the opportunity."

"Once I arrived, they had no choice. There was no easy way to put me back where I had come from. And at least among the Lunarians, I am not the villain I am here.

"So I was welcome to stay, and I was welcome to try. But by no means was I a welcome guest. Nine years we have endured each other. Nine years of tedious slumber and meditation have done me no good. They decided that if I hadn't accomplished anything in all that time, I ought to stop wasting their precious wasted energy and sulk elsewhere. Hence, they brought me to the first place they could think of where I wouldn't be slaughtered on first sight."

"Ah. To me."

"FuSoYa made sure of it. He is as helpful and cold as the rest of them, usually; but I am the eldest son of his younger brother, and he took care of everything."

"How did you respond to their decision?"

"Oh, I was terrified. I had no desire to face you, or your wife, and certainly not Kain-yet they planned to deposit me before you on a silver platter. I just knew how it would turn out... I am glad that I was wrong, that time."

"I had always had a feeling this day would come, if we just waited long enough. I had just expected it to happen years from now, when my son was grown, and our country's scars faded, and the war farther behind us. And I had expected that when it happened, you would speak of the peace you had found."

"What about you? Have you found the peace to forgive me?"

"Theodore, I did that a long time ago. You know that."

He smirked again, bigger this time. "Theo, please. I hardly feel like a gift, to be called one. I feel more like an annoyance."

Cecil smirked back. "Yet you're fine being called a god?"

"Sense of humor."

"Well... You're here, now. What do you intend to do now?"

Theo looked all around the room again, gesturing as he spoke, "Cecil, look at the things you've accomplished. Look at the things you've done, the life you've built, the friendships you've made. You've spent all the time being busy, working hard, moving forward. And what have I done in the same amount of time? I've lain perfectly motionless, in a sterile chamber, surrounded by people who despise me for daring to exists in the same plane of existence. I've done absolutely nothing productive in nearly a decade. I haven't carried on a conversation this meaningful since I left this planet."

"I have no home, I have no life, and I have no peace. It is no coincidence that I am missing all three at the same time."

"So you wish me to help you resolve that."

"I would do anything to feel as though I belonged somewhere again. It is a feeling I haven't felt since I was a child. It is fortunate, after all, that the Lunarians decided to leave me with you. Perhaps they though to punish us at the same time, for our heritage; but if anyone could help me, it is you. Please, will you help me?"

Cecil reached forward to place his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'm your brother, Theo. Of course I will help you."

Theo sighed in relief, looking more tha eager to begin. "What first?"

"I would recommend apologies. Many are due, though there was no time to give them before."

Theo now looked daunted. "I haven't a clue where to start. The list is beyond count..."

"Kain and Rosa are here. You can begin with them."

"Will they bother hearing me?"

"They will be surprised, when they see you, but give them time. They need to hear it from you."

"You make a remarkable counselor. You do this often?"

"It is a gift I've always had. It baffles my son."

Theo's face suddenly lit up.

"...I have a nephew... Now I am the uncle."

That struck a chord in Cecil's heart, and it pained him. His brother hadn't felt joy in a crushingly long time. Perhaps this needed to be fixed, first and foremost. Putting his arm around Theo's shoulders, he led him back to the door.

"Do you have a favorite food, brother?"

"...Why?"

"Because we are having it for dinner tonight."

"Don't celebrate on my behalf, Cecil. I am not worth celebrating."

"A wise man once told me not to belittle myself, if I was trying to make a change. Demonstrations of self-loathing will not make you stronger, and you have a long road ahead of you. So let us encourage you, on the eve of your journey's beginning. You are my brother-I thought I would never see you again-and I find your return more than worthy of celebration. So help me, you will remember to feel so about yourself, in time."

"I never thought I would get the chance to tell you that you are a good brother. You are a good brother. I ran off on a suicide mission, and you came to my aid. I return to you a wounded stranger, and you allow me in. I am humbled, and honored."

"We are all wounded in our own ways. Now we will heal each other properly. As brothers, at last."

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Author's Notes...

We've been reading a lot of Shakespeare at my house lately... I think it shows in the last section, especially. Theodore is so moody, I couldn't help myself.

Real conflict begins in the next chapter. Huzzah.


	5. Chapter 4: Blood Matters

There may now be a side-fic in the works about Cecilia. What can I say? When characters play major roles before the story, only to become side notes when it unfolds, I become fascinated.

Because Theo remembers her, of course. Quite vividly. There is a lot of explaining to do.

AND, the first part of the twist I warned Lady Rabenschwarz about. ;D

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_Chapter 4: Blood Matters_

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Cecil had been mildly surprised that his wife hadn't recognized their guest right away. Theo had recognized her lovely face in an instant-it had changed very little since he had seen her last-and had cringed a bit.

"So," Rosa had said with a welcoming smile, "who is your friend, dear? Someone of importance, I imagine; though I don't believe we have met."

"Well... Rosa, you remember Theodore, yes?"

"...?"

"My... Older brother?"

Rosa had reacted to this by snatching the nearest candelabra and brandishing it against the darker man, threatening pain if he came near her. Cecil couldn't blame her; even if she had a forgiving heart, their time together in Zot hadn't been pleasant. Explaining what he was doing back softened her defensiveness a little, but it was clear that she was still suspicious.

Despite the fears they all shared, Cecil had left his wife and his brother alone to awkwardly talk things over. He vacated to the white mage's study and idly picked up a textbook while he waited. As he flipped through the pages, he sighed. This particular text was out of date, several editions behind, and much of the information had been scratched out and rewritten by numerous hands-he even recognized the hand of a teenaged Rosa in the margins.

Not all of the texts were so badly out of date; but the king made a mental note to begin culling some the older books, and budget for replacements.

After a while had passed in silence, he heard light footsteps descending the stairs into the study. Rosa appeared, looking flustered and irritated, and stopped before her husband with her arms crossed.

"You might have warned me," she said tersely.

"If I had known family was back in town, you would have been the first to know, I swear."

"So its really just that easy? He seeks forgiveness, and nothing else?"

"What else would anyone want?"

"Hm..."

"So... What did you talk about?"

"Forgiveness. And dinner, but mostly forgiveness."

"And you said...?"

Finally, Rosa smiled softly.

"Oh, you know very well what I said. I've given him everything he asked me for. Including pork chops."

"Pork chops?"

"With applesauce. It is a meal he has sorely missed, since he left, and he said you promised him whatever he wanted to eat tonight. Again, you might have warned me."

"Yes, dear, and I'm sorry."

"Cecil... What about the Harveys? They don't exactly know about him, after all."

Cecil grimaced, hating how right she was. Even though his mother was long dead, she had left him a grandfather, an aunt, two uncles, and several cousins-all of whom shared an annoyingly superior state of mind. As a boy, the Harvey family had just been another conniving clan in a sea of courtiers, all jostling to worm their way into the royal line. In all honesty, he had been quite glad that he didn't belong to them; he happened to share their name, on a whim of the king's, and that was all.

However, the king's scandalous hunch had been correct. The child he had found was, in fact, the son of Cecilia Harvey. Now that the child was a grown man and a king, he found that his mother's family insisted on being closer to him than ever before. Funny thing, Cecil thought. As a boy, the man who turned out to be his grandfather had always despised him, for taking up a place in the king's eye that one of his own grandsons should have had.

The manipulative old man certainly couldn't get enough of him, now. Oh, irony...

And so, the Harvey clan was now more aware of Cecil than they were of nearly anyone else. But if anyone was completely oblivious to the true identity of the maniacal Golbez, none was more oblivious than Errol Harvey-their grandfather. To their credit, the Light Warriors had all gone to great trouble to keep the man's identity a secret. They all knew, and the Lunarians definitely knew, and perhaps their few spouses knew. Outside of that, the whole of the Blue Planet was blissfully unaware that the king of Baron had a blood brother at all.

Perhaps, over dinner, that would change. If it did, it would change rapidly. If aunt Lucille had a say in it, the revelation would be the city's common knowledge by noon the next day. The woman simply couldn't keep anything to herself. None of them really could. Cecil found that infuriating.

"Do you think they're ready for this? For him?" he asked his wife doubtfully.

"I think they deserve to know. They aren't the most pleasant folk, but they are your family. And they are Theodore's family, too. He should know them."

"All he will learn from them is the list of reasons our mother was so happy to run away from them. There's little else to be done with any of them."

Rosa opened her mouth to scold him for being so cold. But she considered his words and bit her lip instead, because he was absolutely right.

"Perhaps," she said slowly, "the more pressing question is whether Theodore is ready for them."

Cecil shook his head sadly. "I don't look forward to him finding that all the pleasant members of our family are dead. I don't like having to explain that they see us as pawns to be manipulated and pushed around, and scolded when we think for ourselves. He'll finally know our mother's family, and they won't be bothered to love him."

"...But you love him, Cecil. You always have, in spite of the distances that separated you. Whether or not they accept him doesn't matter. Not as long as he has a brother who cares."

"..."

"And, hey, who needs uncles, anyway? Uncles are overrated."

Cecil couldn't help but crack a smile. Wasn't that the truth and a half.

"Don't say that to Theo, though. He's an uncle, himself, remember? I think Rhys will be the one member of our family he won't be sorry to meet."

"They may prove to be very much alike, in all the best possible ways. It can't be said either one of them lacks ambition."

"Well, then... Dinner tonight is going to be interesting..."

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And it was, exactly as interesting as he thought it would be. There sat the whole Harvey family, complete at last, over a feast of perfectly prepared pork chops and applesauce. Errol, the patriarch of the clan, was rigid and indigant as ever; aunt Lucille was overly chatty as always, constantly fishing for information to distort later into gossip; uncles Rex and Bruno made an effort to be jovially curious, but certainly had secret agendas of their own. Their various children were silent, mostly, allowing their parents to make most of the conversation-like good children of the court, even if they were almost all adults.

And Theo sat rather anxiously beside his brother, looking uncomfortable to be the object of all the shifty attention.

"Now," Errol said suspiciously, "tell me again how you ended up on the moon, young man."

"A coincidence," Theo answered starkly. "I was offered the opportunity when the war ended, and I decided to take it. It seemed like the best choice for everyone."

"And how come we never heard of him before?" the old man asked, turning his glare on Cecil. "You certainly seem to have known about him."

"Again, it was best for everyone," the king answered, annoyed that between the insipid questions, he had barely taken two bites of his meal.

"Nonsense," Bruno insisted. "You've robbed us of a nephew."

Theo tried not to cut his eyes at his uncle. "It isn't like you could have sent me a card."

Lucille sighed wistfully. "All that time on the moon, with the Lunarians. It must have been stimulating."

"In a manner."

"What made you decide to return here?"

"A change in scenery that I sorely needed. I... I missed this place. And there are admittedly many things I needed to do here. I suppose, all that time, I was running from my obligations."

"Ah," she said finally, returning to her plate. "How interesting."

In an effort to diffuse the awkwardness, Rosa looked over at him with a genuine smile. The only one he had received since dinner had been served.

"How's the food?" she asked.

He gave her a weak but relieved smile. "Excellent. Thank you. I haven't eaten actual food in a long time."

"Really?" Rex asked. "How have you survived?"

"Off their Lunarian magic, I suppose. It sustains them all, and it sustained me, as well."

"And we understand that this is your favorite," Lucille chided. "Why this?"

Theo gave her an odd look. "...Because it is tasty, I suppose."

"Tasty? That's all?"

"Must there be more?"

Lucille looked back at her plate.

"...Actually," he said slowly, with a faint smile, "I suppose it is because mother used to make this. It was my favorite-she always cooked this on my birthday."

Rex and Bruno snorted with laughter.

"Cecilia, a cook?" Rex asked incredulously. "I had never known her to cook a day in her life."

"Indeed not," Bruno agreed. "That's servant's work."

"We lived a simple life, among simple folk. All the women cooked for their families."

"How quaint," Lucille said dismissively. "Someone must have taught her, then. I can't imagine my own sister was predispositioned to be adequate at it."

"Mother was a fine cook," Theo snapped defensively. "Some said she was the best cook in the village, and they were right to say so. She was the best in the world."

"I doubt it. Such menial labor isn't suited to a woman of quality."

"Mother was a woman of the highest quality. Don't pretend that you knew her."

"She was my sister. We grew up together. We spent more time together than you ever did. I should think I knew her quite well."

"Dearest aunt," Cecil interjected, feeling as sorely offended as his brother. "She was our mother. She carried us. She held us. She loved us, and she loved our father as well. I should think we knew her fairly intimately, ourselves."

"Come now, nephew," she answered dryly, "you never knew her at all."

"Lucille," Rosa snapped. "That's enough. Theodore has come a long way to be a part of this family. I would think you'd be kinder to him, on his first day home. Anyway, she hadn't been a part of this family for the better part of a decade; I would say her husband and her sons came to know her more deeply that you ever did, in that short time."

If it had been anyone else, Lucille would have snapped back that it was unbecoming of a woman so much younger to scold her. However, Rosa was the queen; her word was hardly to be questioned by a mere courtier. So while her brothers snickered after her accidental folly, Lucille returned her glare to her half-eatten pork chop.

Errol shook his grizzled head. "I still can't believe that my own Cecilia went off and eloped with a man I met only once. And bore him two children that I never even knew of. Was she ever even aware of the scandal it caused us? Did she even care about the rest of us?"

"Not that you missed her," Theo retorted sharply.

"She was to be queen, for pity's sake! She was to place our family in line for the throne, and she disgraced us. And I still say the whole thing was highly suspect. Your shifty father did something to her, no doubt."

Cecil slammed his fist on the table before he quite realized what he was doing, rattling every plate, glass, and piece of silverware. The silence that followed was deathly, simmering with rage. No one dared break it. Not until Theo pushed his chair from the table, the scraping against the floor almost painful to hear.

"Well, I can see it when I'm not wanted," he stated blankly, and turned to leave. He changed his mind in midstep, turning back to snatch his plate from the table before storming out the door and slamming it shut behind him.

Once he was gone, Cecil and Rosa glared back at the rest of the family. He had absolutely nothing to say to any of them.

"That was nicely handled, Errol," Rosa snapped furiously, standing up and gathering up her plate, as well as her husband's.

"My lady, where are you going?" Bruno asked, poorly masking his affrontment with confusion.

"Somewhere my husband and brother and I can enjoy our dinner in peace, thank you."

"You might allow a servant to-"

"I have hands of my own! I don't need helping!"

She sighed a hissing sigh, sick of their faces, and stalked to the door. She turned to look at them once more and shook her head.

"Cecil was right, this was a bad idea. I should have listened to him..."

Errol opened his mouth to address his nephew-to point out that this show of behavior was out of line, and uncalled for, and that someone ought to talk some sense into someone-but Cecil cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Don't. Don't even bother. I won't hear anything else any of you have to say."

"Cecil really-"

"No. That's my brother. That's my mother and father you're talking about."

"Grandson, do you care nothing for the truth?"

"Do you?"

Errol held him in a staring match that didn't last long. Cecil stood up and went to the door, determined to console his brother before he did something rash.

"Promise me one thing," he growled to his family. "_Never _speak of my parents in front of me again. I have no interest in your complaining."

If he didn't chance upon any of them for the next year, he wouldn't mind it. He had more important family problems to address. He wondered how far ahead Theo and Rosa had gotten; not very far, he imagined. In fact, he caught up to them quickly; he found them sitting in a small music room nearby. Rosa was lighting candles on a round table, and Theo sat dismally across from her, picking listlessly at his cold dinner.

"Pull up another chair, darling," Rosa insisted calmly when he walked in. "Let us try this again, and get it right this time."

Cecil obliged happily, though the rest of their dinner started off in silence.

"I'm afraid I've lost my appetite," Theo stated finally, sorrowfully. "I don't understand how a woman like my own mother could have come from such horrid people."

"I wonder at it frequently, myself. Brother, I'm so sorry about them. I knew that meeting would be awkward, but I never expected them to be so cruel."

"I'm not sure how you didn't," Rosa quipped, daring to speak with her mouth half-full, now that they were alone. "They generally are."

"You ought to meet our _real _family," Cecil suggested, feeling a little more optimistic at the idea.

"Your real family? Are they not real enough?"

"I think my husband means the other Light Warriors. They are as much family to us as our own blood. Perhaps closer."

"Oh, yes..." Theo sighed, resting his temple against his fingertips. "All the people I needed to seek out anyway, to apologize to... Are they all still living?"

"Very much so," Rosa agreed brightly. "The two youngest of us just celebrated their 17th birthday this past week. Everyone was here for it, too... You just missed them, actually..."

"Isn't that a fine thing. Ah, fate, thou art a cruel mistress."

"We stay in good contact, though. They will come, if you ask."

"No, thank you. I feel that I should go to them. I was the one who ordered many of their kingdoms to be destroyed, and many of their people's lives to be lost. Who am I, to sit idly and have them come to me? I should face the damage I've done."

"Don't beat yourself like this," Cecil insisted firmly, remembering very well a time when he had done the same to himself. "Anyway, there's very little damage to look at. All their kingdoms have been rebuilt nicely, in the last nine or so years."

"Will they even want to see me?"

"Well... I suppose Edge will put up a fight"

"Rydia won't let him. For what its worth, she would welcome you."

"Your friends from the Whale, I recall. They're married now?"

"And have three children, yes. Two of them were here last week, though the eldest was grounded and not allowed to come. Something about setting fire to a rather expensive carpet, I think... The proud parents were less than pleased," Rosa elaborated.

Theo laughed shortly. "They seemed an argumentative pair, all those years ago. It was a marvel any of you got anything done with them around."

"Argumentative, yet formidable," Cecil answered. "Nothing can stand in their way... Well, I'm finished. How about some music?"

He stood up and walked to the piano, lifting the ebony cover to reveal gleaming white keys. After stretching his hands briefly, he sat at the bench and began to play a slow waltz.

Theo raised an eye brow at his brother. "I never would have marked you as musical."

"Just a hobby I've picked up. I could teach you later, if you'd like."

"No, no, I've never been good at that. Heaven knows I've tried in the past. I'm content to just listen to you."

Cecil grinned back, happy to have cheered his dismal brother, and returned his attention to the piano.

"Tomorrow, when things are more settled, you will have to meet your nephew."

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Another uneasy night was already three hours further along, in Mysidia. The citizens were mostly deep in prayer, seeking answers in the cosmos to why the twin moon had suddenly reappeared. Malachi seemed to be awaiting another call for the Whale, which hadn't happened yet.

Hence, he had instructed Palom to write another letter to Baron, asking for more news if there was any. The boy had already written three, since he had returned; he now labored over the fourth letter, wondering what more he could ask for without sounding like a pest.

He wanted very badly to ask if Golbez had returned yet, but it seemed rude. The guy had a real name, too, but he could never remember what it was. He just knew that Cecil disliked it intensely when his brother was called by the wrong name.

"Porom should be doing this," Palom muttered to himself, glaring at the mostly blank paper before him. "Where could she be...?"

In fact, Porom had made herself pretty scarce for the last few days. She hadn't seemed herself when they had come back, and had gone on to become less and less like herself as the days wore on. Of course, everyone assumed that she had busied herself with meditation and prayer, like any good white mage would, and that perhaps it had fatigued her somewhat. On any other day, Palom would have agreed; but he knew his twin too well. Something just didn't feel right, deep in his gut. He wished he had the nerve to ask her straight out. But if she really was as deep in prayer as everyone else, she would snap at him if he bothered her, and he wasn't in the mood for that.

However, after another long few minutes struggling with his letter, his impatience got the better of him. He marched out of the study and up the stairs to his sister's room, glad to be passing the task off to someone who was halfway good at diplomacy.

He knocked gently on her door and waited for some kind of response... But none came. He dared to knock a little louder this time, fearing her wrath if he was disturbing her meditation... But again, she didn't answer.

"Porom? Are you in there?"

Still no answer. An alarm bell chimed in the front of his brain. Something was definitely wrong. He opened the door, thankful to find it unlocked, and let himself into the shadowy room beyond. A lit candle sat on the bedside table, feebly illuminating the space, but he didn't see his sister anywhere.

He did hear the sound of shaking, raspy breathing from the side of the bed that he couldn't see. His heart began to race as he dashed around the bed, and he gasped in alarm at what he found.

His sister lay on the floor, struggling desperately to pull herself up as her whole body shook violently. All the color had drained from her skin-all the better to see the dark red blood she was drenched with. The front of her pale dress was stained with it. She seemed to be surrounded by a seeping puddle of it.

Fully terrified, his mind racing to think of how she might have hurt herself so badly, Palom fell to his knees beside her and pulled her into his arms.

"Porom, what happened?" he demanded frantically. "What happened? Tell me!"

She tried to answer, but began coughing violently instead. Her coughing suddenly gave way to wretching-and he found himself as bloodied as she was.

This was bad. _Very _bad.

"...Help me..." she whimpered at last into his chest, through tears that had to be from exquisite pain.

His heart constricted. The moon wasn't important anymore. Pestering letters could come later. Nothing else dared to be on his mind.

"Help!" he screamed toward the door, praying that his voice carried to someone nearby. _Anyone._ "Someone get up here and help me! Now!"

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Back in Baron, the dawn came as it normally did. And Kain made his way down to his training yard, as he normally did. Though he considered going somewhere less obvious today. If the rumors around the castle were true, _he _was back. Oh, it had only been a matter of time. They would have to face each other sometime. He was determined to put that meeting off for as long as he could.

But everyone knew where he was. If certain people wanted to find him, this was the first place to look. That was the problem with a schedule, with routines and habits. Once you established them, people could count on you all too easily.

All the same, he decided as he walked into the usual space, if people were going to come looking for him, it was best to get it over with. At any rate, the man he had always known as Golbez had turned out to be very different from who he had been. He had come to be... A remarkably well adjusted hero, Kain slowly admitted to himself. He would have liked a little personal closure, there at the end-if only to exchange apologies and part on neutral terms. He had secretly regretted that no time had been spared for that, after all the adventures they had weathered together.

Feh. Lunarians. For being creatures unbound by time, they never seemed to have time for anything.

So Kain took a spear from a nearby shed, and moved into his usual swordsdance. He could have preformed the intricate movements in his sleep, and often wondered if he ever had. It was a sequence of steps and swings of his weapon that he had known since childhood. It never failed to bring him comfort, when he was troubled. Even when he wasn't troubled, it was good exercise. A good way to wake his mind and body every morning.

Eventually, as he brought his spear around, it hit something solid with the sharp clang of metal against metal. The sudden contact caught him off guard, and he nearly stumbled. There was the face he had been dreading-though without the helmet to mask it, it was little more than any other face. It was unsettling.

Surely, the man saw him the same.

"Its been a while, Kain."

"Too long, indeed."

His face rather blank, Theo lowered his sword, and they withdrew to a less awkward distance. If that was possible.

"Could I speak with you?"

"Are we not, yet?"

"I don't blame you for not wanting this meeting."

"I suppose it has to happen, whether we want it to or not. There are too many things left unsaid."

"Even now, I do not know where to begin."

Kain gave him a rueful smirk. "You could spar with me. For old time's sake."

Looking surprised at the invitation, Theo slowly raised his borrowed blade to defend. "Perhaps you will teach me a trick of your own, for a change."

"If you insist. I am also full of surprises."

For the better part of an hour they spared back and forth, fairly even as opponents. Kain was mildly surprised that they were suddenly so evenly matched. Golbez the monster had been ruthless and overpowering, drilling his own forms into the heads of his followers. Theodore the man was strong and determined, as any fighter should be, but so much... Smaller than he had once been. Without massive dark armor to hide behind, there was just a man of fresh and bone. Without a helm to distort his voice, he sounded like anyone else; his voice was still deep and mysterious, as it had been; but not like that of an ethereal demon. There was wisdom in his voice. And a fair amount of pain that had yet to be salved.

Kain knew that feeling all too well.

When they stopped to rest at last, Theo stretched his arms wide and regarded Kain carefully.

"You've changed since last we met. There was still darkness in your heart when we parted. I sense it has diminished greatly."

"I could say the same of you, though the darkness hasn't left you yet. It has changed its shape, but it remains."

"Indeed. Hopefully, my brother can help me."

"He can. Its what he does. Its what he has always done, even when we were children."

Theo smiled absently into space. "He is very much like our mother... Kain... What I did to you was despicable. I ruined your life, as it was, in every possible way there was to ruin it. That is something that has plagued me for all the time I've been gone, unable to set it right. But... Is there any way you can forgive me?"

Kain paused, finding himself having to think about that for a second. The few times it had been brought up, Cecil had insisted that he had forgiven his brother for what he had done-of course he had, with a heart like his. But now that Kain honestly considered it, he found that he had never given it more than a passing thought. If anything, he had simply tried to put it behind him and move forward. He thought about it as little as he could.

But that wasn't the same as forgiveness. Forgiveness required a searching of the heart, and he always found that a struggle. However, he nodded his head.

"I do."

Theo looked mildly surprised. "Really? That easily?"

"When I say that Cecil can help you, I speak from personal experience. As king, he had a choice to turn me away, to scorn me forever as punishment for my crimes. Instead, he chose to welcome me home, and to show me the true meaning of forgiveness."

"What is that?"

"To forgive yourself. And he has taught me too well, to deny forgiveness when someone ask for it. So when I say that I forgive you, it is that easy. And it is true."

Theo sighed deeply, as if a great weight had fallen from him. A shred of the darkness that still gripped him was sliced away, vanishing into thin air. Kain could have sworn, his former captor looked a shade brighter than just before.

"Come," he said, leading the way back into the castle. "They're probably serving breakfast without us, and I am starving from that match."

"Huh... So am I."

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It wasn't even noon yet, but Theo felt like he had already done a lot since he had woken up. Waking up... He had been asleep, in cryostasis, for the last nine years. Yet waking up that morning, from the first real sleep he had had in years had been refreshing to his very soul.

He had met his nephew at breakfast. Rhys had come bounding in without a care in the world, his sandy hair unbrushed from his own slumber, his clothing clearly not chosen by an adult, and hopped into his seat with a hungry gleam in his blue eyes.

"Mom, are we having toast?" he had asked expectantly.

"No, dear, oatmeal," Rosa had answered, looking tired already, prompting a pout from her son.

"I wanted toast."

"Have some sausage," Cecil had suggested quickly, passing the boy a platter.

"Oh, okay," the boy had answered brightly, his complaint far behind him, as he served himself six links.

"Put some of those back," Rosa had scolded. "The rest of us need to eat, too."

As Rhys reluctantly replaced two of his sausages, he had finally noticed the stranger at the table.

"Who's this guy, dad?"

"Rhys, this is a very special guest of ours. This is your uncle, Theo."

"Oh, hi." Rhys had waved enthusiastically. "I'm Rhys. I'm six. Hey, if you're my uncle, how come I've never seen you before?"

"Well, I've been away."

"Been away where?"

"Very far away," his mother had answered before the moon had to come up. "But he's back now, so be on your best manners, please."

"So, you're gonna be my uncle now? Cool! Welcome home," Rhys had concluded, shaking his uncle's hand for the first time.

Rhys had gone off to his lessons for the day, and was now in some form of language class, if he understood correctly. He wasn't sure where Rosa was or what she was doing, though he presumed that she had escaped and was resting from dealing with her son.

"He reminds me of myself, somewhat," he commented to his brother, as they wandered the castle in conversation.

"We thought you might say that. He has an amazing aptitude for magic, you know. There was talk of sending him to Mysidia for training, but we just can't do that."

"Ah. Perhaps when he is older?"

'Perhaps never. They don't exactly welcome strangers."

"They welcomed you."

"The Lunarians welcomed you."

"...You were successful. Very successful."

"I was able to come and go, and not have to be trapped among them."

"I see. That bad, are they?"

Cecil shook his head, almost looking furious. "You have no idea what they can be like, even to children."

Theo chose to abandon that discussion, to leave it for a more serious time.

"I could try to teach him, if you would allow me."

"Oh! You would?"

"I would like to try. He seems like a difficult child to teach anything to; but then, so was I. Father can really never be given enough credit for his patience."

"Tell me about him. What was he like?"

"He valued knowledge, like any Lunarian. But the man I knew valued his family more. His own people were horrified that he would lower himself to the point of feeling feelings; but he felt them deeply. Deeper than anyone else I've ever known. Perhaps he understood their value more than any human can. He was a Lunarian, who learned to love. Lunarians don't love, Cecil. They know, in passing, what love is; but they don't know what it feels like. I'm not sure if they know how to."

"Oh... That's a depressing thought."

"Looking back, I think it made him stronger. The Lunarians are a powerful people, make no mistake. But their moral compass is not based on morals. It is based on logic. Logic has no place, guiding your heart. But when you've learned that your heart is just a machine that keeps your body alive, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore.

"Our father never taught me such things. He taught me that your heart is a valuable tool, to be listened to. Lunarians prefer to shut that down entirely. Zermus was especially good at that... I shudder to think what havoc Zeromus could have reaped at that..."

"But that was what led you back here. For all the damage it sustained, your heart seems to be functioning as well as any human heart should."

"Ah... That is reassuring to hear. I hadn't been sure. I've had little basis for comparison."

Cecil smiled, also reassured. "Where were we living, exactly? I've tried to track down the place where I was born, but I still can't seem to find anything. Was it in Baron?"

"In the countryside, in a small village that had once been some sort of lordship. However, the lord hadn't been in the area for a long time, so our parents rather assumed that role. They had become a disorganized community, with no true leader to manage things. I'm not sure who they paid for the mannor where he once lived, but they did own the abandoned estate."

"And you said that you were a simple family."

"We were! I just... Didn't want to confess to it in front of _them_. They would have taken it the wrong way. We did actually have a few servants, if you could call them that. It was mother's way of reaching out to the community. The men and women she hired were in dire need of the work. She knew every one of them by name, and I was to treat them with the utmost respect. They were our friends. Their help was highly valued."

"I suppose that is where I get it from, then. There are so many hired hands in this castle, its never easy to put names to their faces right away. Its never stopped me from trying, though. A king ought to make an attempt at remembering his people's names."

"Miss Elaine was the woman responsible for your delivery. I remember vividly... I can still see her face. I wonder if she is still alive?"

"You should take me, sometime. We can find out together."

"Yes, I would like that very much. It will be a good place to begin my quest."

"You really intend to do this all by yourself? I'm proud of you for wanting to at all-I know how difficult it is. But you don't have to go alone, and you know it."

"I wouldn't ask you to leave your life behind on my account. You have a wife and a child, and a kingdom to look after. I won't ask you to abandon that. And I am a grown man, after all. I hardly need babysitting."

"Rosa will insist," Cecil answered with a laugh. "She won't let you go alone. At any rate, I want to help you. You're my brother, and I only just got you back. I don't want to sat goodbye again so suddenly. The last time good friends of mine went off on a quest like this, I didn't see them again for nearly two years. We completely lost track of them for a while; there was no correspondence, and few rumors of where they had gone. We feared for a while that they had gotten into some sort of trouble and had gone into hiding, or that they had died. It isn't like them to just vanish like that...

"The point being, you won't be going alone, because I am going with you. And you won't be able to change that."

Theo sighed slowly at his brother's stubbornness-exactly as intact as it used to be. Inwardly, he was impossibly relieved. He would have done this all by himself, if he had had to; it wasn't a quest to be shrugged off a second longer than it had to be. Knowing that his brave little brother would be with him eased the nervousness he felt.

Cecil looked ready to return to the previous topic, the place where they had been born and what life had been like then. However, a young man in a footman's uniform came upon them from behind.

"Your majesty," the man greeted, clearing his throat, "this just arrived for you. From Mysidia. Her majesty had me bring it. She said she would have opened it, but it is addressed to you."

He held out a sheet of parchment, hastily folded in half, not even sealed, with Cecil's full name and title written quickly across the front. The king took it, marvelling at how little ceremony had been put into it.

"Thank you, Desmond," he said with a respectful nod.

The young man nodded back, and walked back in the direction he had come from. Cecil looked at the letter again, turning it over to inspect it.

"Either they are very impatient for news, or this is another shining example of Palom's handiwork. "

Theo wasn't sure what his brother meant by that, and he wondered vaguely who Palom was. And why his name was the Lunarian word for the sun. As he wondered, Cecil opened the letter and began to read to himself. As he did, his expression became horrified.

"What?!"

"What does it say?"

Cecil wordlessly handed over the letter, which Theo read out loud.

"...'Porom is dying, come now'? What does this mean?"

"That we are going to Mysidia. _Now_."

"Who is Porom?" Theo asked, running after his brother as he sprinted down the hall.

"I'll explain on the trip. Grab some things for a day's travel and wait for me by the gate."

Theo changed his course to go back to his borrowed room, wondering at all this. When he got back to his room, he looked back down at the letter, still in his hand. Of course he didn't recognize the hand it was written in, but it looked written in a furious hurry. Apparently, the writer was left-handed; the left half of the scrawl was slightly smeared with blood that hadn't even oxidized yet.

Whoever Porom was, her predicament looked more and more dire. And she must be very important, or the king of a land far across the sea would not have been notified. Or have been so alarmed.

Having few possessions to take on a day's travel, Theo took his jacket from a peg on the wall, and stuffed some of the room's complimentary potions and antidotes into his pockets. Also, because Cecil's previous description of the Mysidians unnerved him, he buckled his borrowed short sword around his waist.

Even if he had more things of his own, he probably would have been satisfied with his meager inventory as it was. He had always preferred to travel light.

He beat his brother decidedly to the main gate. He hung around to wait nervously, still wishing he had more information about the current situation. He stopped a passing maid, hoping she could enlighten him.

"Miss, I don't suppose you could answer a question for me. Who is Porom?"

"Oh, the Mysidian child," the woman answered right away. "She is one of the Light Warriors; her and her twin brother, Palom. His majesty looks after them as he would his own brother and sister. He cares very deeply for them, you know. They come here often, on errands from the city's elder, so we see them a lot."

"Oh, really..."

"They're famous, too. Their skills with magic are incredible. They're both geniuses. They helped to defeat an archfiend, right here in the castle! Bless their hearts, they were only eight years old at the time."

"Oh! That was them?"

"Indeed," the maid said proudly. "Their majesties have asked them many times to move here and take office in our magical departments. Heaven knows, we could use their expertise. And... I maybe shouldn't say this, but rumor has it that they are unhappy in Mysidia. This worries the king deeply, it seems."

Feeling satisfied for the moment, Theo nodded his head. "Thank you for your time, miss."

She nodded back with a smile and returned to her work. Theo leaned back against the wall, pondering all this new information.

He closed his eyes, thinking back carefully to the war. He knew exactly who they were going to see, now. He had been in the tower of Zot, when those children had crossed paths with his brother. He had been baffled when they had defeated Scarmiglione on the mountain; why there should be little children there in the first place had puzzled him. And when they had defeated Cagnazzo, he had been furious. Their demise on his heels had been refreshing. That potential time bomb had been happily nipped in the bud.

Later, during the final battle, he had been startled to see them yet again, broken free of the powerful magic that had bound them. He had finally heard their voices, offering strength and courage to finish the fight. It had been good to no longer find them a pain, thwarting his plan.

Now, it seemed that his former self was getting precisely what it had wanted. One of those children was dying. He felt positively sick with himself. He couldn't help but wonder if this was the universe's way of coming around to bite his heel. Cecil would assure him that this was not his fault in any way, shape or form; but deep inside, he still had to wonder if it was, somehow.

Palom and Porom, huh? The sun and the moon...

Finally, Cecil came marching toward the gate with a rucksack over his shoulder, and a worried Rosa at his side.

"And if you need anything, you will send me word immediately, do you understand?" she was saying forcefully.

"Of course I will, dearest. You'll be well informed, I promise."

"Take care of things," she said, giving him a quick farewell kiss. "I know you will."

He grasped her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'll send word as soon as I know what's going on. Hopefully, we will be back soon."

He turned away and beckoned Theo to follow him forth, through the gate and into the city beyond.

"Have you ever traveled by Devil's Road?" he asked.

"I'm afraid not."

"Great. You're in for a treat, then."

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Author's Notes...

A brief word about the Harvey's, and why they are named the way they are, because my reasoning is juicy and awesome:

Errol, the cranky old geezer, is in fact named after Percy Weasley's decrepit old owl in the Harry Potter series.

Lucille's name means "light"; which is hilarious, because her older sister's name, Cecilia, means "blind".

Rex means "king"; of course Errol Harvey would blatantly name his eldest son "king". Its what he wants more than anything in the whole wide world.

Bruno is named after Bruno Mars. Because what can I say? I really like the guy's music. And I can't get _Treasure _out of my head, no matter how loudly I blast the dulcet tones of Lindsey Stirling's hip-hop violin.

And YES, Edward was the one who taught Cecil to play the piano so well. I suddenly thought of the pianos from FFV, and how each time you played one the tune was longer, and better, and the bard class gained a stat. Kind of like when you make your Sims play an instrument. It was an awesome little trick. There may be strategically placed pianos throughout this story...


	6. Chapter 5: Radioactive

Cecil has a lot of flashbacks. Just a heads up.

Also, more of the charming citizens of Mysidia, for your entertainment.

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_Chapter 5: Radioactive_

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As the brothers emerged from Devil's Road, they promptly collapsed on the floor beyond the teleporter, both sick with dizziness.

"I don't understand," Cecil grumbled, rubbing his throbbing head. "Its not supposed to be this way..."

"This road was born of Lunarian technology," Theo pointed out. "The source of its magic being so near again may be effecting its performance."

"Oh. Terrific. Are you okay?"

"I've certainly been better."

Satisfied, and with the sickness quickly wearing off, Cecil climbed to his feet and helped his brother up. They went up the enclosure's staircase to the door at the top, which notably bore a doorknob instead of a switch. Outside, the bright July sun stood almost at three o'clock, and the day was already beginning to darken slightly.

Time was relative, indeed, Cecil thought as they wordlessly hurried down the street. He silently prayed that they still had enough.

Theo had never actually seen the city for himself, he realized. Cecil knew the streets fairly well, for himself. He knew all the best routes to the tower of prayer; the twins had personally taught him all that they knew of Mysidia's winding roads. Some were better at midday, and others in the evenings when the citizens were rushing home from their day's work. However, any road would have been fine today. The streets were largely deserted, the people shut up in their houses, in fear and meditation. The few people he did see looked relieved that he was there, at last. He wondered if they were even aware that something had happened at the tower... And if they cared, if they did know.

As they approached the towering tower, Theo gazed up its length in stunned awe.

"Impressive," he commented. "Surely, you must have one good memory of this place."

"Well... I suppose there are one or two," he agreed as he reached for the door handle. One such memory came to him immediately. It had begun very much like this, as he had opened this very door many years earlier...

_He had barely opened the door, when a streak of red and green pounced on him in a fit of overjoyed laughter, nearly toppling him over._

_"Whoa, whoa, let me breathe a little," he said good naturedly, hugging them right back._

_"You said you'd be here by noon," Porom scolded indignantly. "It's half past noon now! Where have you been?"_

_Behind them, Rosa was giggling, amused by the scene before her. "Patience, you two. It is a virtue, after all."_

_"Aw, we don't have time for stuff like that," Palom retorted, running up to hug her as well._

_"I think you've gotten taller, young man," she commented. He was only half a head shorter than she was, now. Not long ago, he hadn't quite reached her shoulders. _

_"Yup, I sure have," he agreed, flexing his arms. "I've been eating my string beans, like Yang said. Turns out they're not so bad, with some butter."_

_"You mean a lot of butter," Porom corrected. "You'll get fat, the way you eat."_

_"No way. That'll never happen."_

_As they walked together into the tower, Porom jumped onto Cecil's back. He sighed and let her cling to his shoulders, carrying her inside. For old time's sake. She was becoming too unwieldy for this, but it was her birthday._

_"Can you believe it?" she said in his ear. "Ten whole years already! I don't feel ten, though..."_

_"Has anything changed?"_

_"Not really. It seems like everyone's forgotten again."_

_That made him very sad, and a little angry. Double digits was a big deal. It was the end of an era, the beginning of a big change in any child's life. Thinking that the twin's tenth birthday would have gone unnoticed if he hadn't come was frustrating._

_"So," Rosa said, changing the subject, "here we are. What would you kids like to do today?"_

_"We could climb the mountain again, for fun," Palom suggested. "Maybe I could get me a forbidden spell!"_

_"I don't think so."_

_"We could go to the beach," Porom suggested instead. "We can walk through the garden on our way-the beach is right behind it. I planted a patch of ranunculuses in the spring, and they're so pretty now! They're all red and white; I wish they came in green, too. And I've heard we're getting a new fountain this winter."_

_"You're obsessed with the garden, sis."_

_"I've spent a lot of time in it."_

_Cecil and Rosa exchanged a smile. "I think that sounds nice," she said. "To the beach, then?"_

_"To the beach, it is," Cecil agreed. "Let's grab some food, first. You can't spend a day on the beach without a picnic. Everyone knows that."_

_Porom hopped off his back and skipped off in a different direction. "I'll ask the Elder If he wants to come, too. He hasn't been down to the beach in a long time. I bet he'd like it."_

Cecil sighed. That had been a great day. He feared what would greet him inside, today.

He pushed the door open to see a small crowd of people waiting anxiously just inside. More noticeable than all of them was Palom, pacing back and forth, his pants and white shirt covered in darkening blood. The boy looked up at once, his face pale and stricken, stopping in midstep as if he didn't believe what he was seeing.

As soon as it registered, he sprang forward and threw his bloodied arms around his friend, sobbing abysmally.

"You've got to do something! You've got to save her!"

"I know, I know," he whispered back, holding him close. "Its going to be okay, just show me where she is."

Palom took a shaking breath, wiping his tears on the back of his hand, leaving his cheek smeared with blood. He grabbed Cecil's hand and hauled him off toward a side room-one of the tower's many medical rooms. He felt more than saw Theo following him at a respectful distance, wanting to help but unsure how he could be useful.

Inside the room, the first thing they saw was the Elder's back, and his head bowed in prayer. When he turned around to see that Cecil had come so quickly, the man looked overwhelmingly relieved.

"Thank goodness, you've arrived," he said, also grabbing the paladin and pulling him forward. "Perhaps your holy powers can do some good here."

He sounded desperate, and Cecil immediately saw why. Porom occupied the room's only bed, and her state was horrifying. There was no color left in her skin; her blood-soaked dress was all the brighter for it. The smell of it was acrid and irony, and filled with the foul, sickly sweet smell of infection. Her breath came in shallow gasps that sounded painful. She appeared to be unconscious, under the influence of a higher leveled Sleep spell. She had to have been. If she was in as much pain as she seemed to be, sleep would have been impossible.

He took her hand in his, reaching out with a Sight spell. Her pulse had grown faint, and her skin was cold as ice.

"What happened to her?"

"We do not know," Malachi confessed sorrowfully. "Palom found her like this last night. We had feared she had injured herself, by some accident. It seems instead that some terrible illness has taken her. All last night she spent coughing up blood. Twice she has vomited buckets of it. As if it were trying deliberately to escape her body. My magic has yet to find a cause or a cure. I had hoped..."

"That perhaps I could."

"Yes. Your holy magic is unlike mine. Please, can you tell us what has happened?"

The sparkling green aura of the Sight spell settled slowly, finding it hard to adhere to a subject trapped so closely between life and death. It settled over Porom, struggling to soak into her skin. When it did at last, nothing happened. On any other day, it would have examined the subject and spoken back the strengths and weaknesses it had found. Today, Cecil heard nothing back from it. As if it had just given up trying and expired, or had been choked to death somehow.

"...Well?" Malachi asked impatiently when Cecil didn't answer. "Have you found anything?"

Cecil shook his head, bewildered and frightened.

"I don't understand..."

He turned to face his companions, pained by their expressions. Malachi was disappointed, and out of ideas. Palom was despairing, ready to break down and cry again. Theo hovered in the doorway, still searching for a way he could be helpful.

Theo's dark eyes darted down to Palom, who wrapped his arms around himself and began to rock back and forth helplessly. Suddenly, he looked like he saw something.

"This is her blood?" he asked, gesturing to Palom's ruined shirt. Looking offended by that stupid question, he nodded.

"Let me see."

Confused but more than willing, Palom tugged his shirt off and handed it over. Theo ran his fingertips over a particularly thick patch of blood, as if he were reading it for hidden symbols. He scraped some of it off and rubbed it between his fingers, testing its texture; it looked sticky and scaly, and he made a disgusted face at it. He made another face, bracing himself... To everyone's disgust, he dared to brush his bloodied finger across his tongue. He immediately began to cough, and spat into his hand. But he looked like he had found a revelation.

"I know what this is."

A gasp of relief filled the room.

"Tell us," Cecil insisted.

"It is a poisoning of the blood. The Lunarians have seen it happen often, as a result of the magic which powers the twin moon. This magic follows forces of light, guiding the moon toward stars-such as our sun. But, at a terrible price, it also attacks other forces of light that could compete with and overwhelm them. Forces such as white magic."

Everyone was puzzled by this.

"I know, it is hard to explain. How can I say this...? It is a form of radiation, not unlike the crystals. It radiates energy. The crystals radiate a positive energy, giving strength and magical power to weaker beings; when it adheres to a person, it builds them up. The moon's energy radiates a negative energy, destroying weaker beings. It adheres to people in the same way the crystals do; only instead of building them up, it tears them down."

"So, the moon's energy is making her sick?"

"It is killing her. It has adhered to her, and deemed her a potential threat. The human body is an amazing and complex thing: when it senses something harmful inside it, it does everything it can to get it out. The girl's blood has been poisoned by the moon's radiation, and now her body is rejecting it."

"That's stupid!" Palom yelled. "If her body was so smart, it would know it needs that blood! She's going to die without it!"

"Her blood is useless. If it remains in her body, it will kill her anyway!"

"Great! Fantastic! So what are you going to do about it, smart guy?!"

"I... I'm not sure yet..."

"Theo," Cecil cut in, "the Lunarians have dealt with this before. Surely they know of a way to cure this."

"They do, though they have never tested it on human beings. And the technology is all the way up there," Theo explained, pointing to the ceiling.

"And why should it be our Porom?" Malachi pleaded. "Surely the people of the moon should find no threat in this little one. She is a remarkable prodigy, to be sure; but she is only human, after all."

"...This is the strange thing," Theo said slowly, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Tests for a cure were never conducted on human beings, because no human being has ever been known to posses such power to rival theirs. Only those of Lunarian blood could posses that kind of power."

A stunned silence settled over the room.

"What are you saying?" Cecil asked warily.

"That if she has suffered this fate, it can only be on account of her Lunarian blood. And a high concentration of it, at that. Only as far back as two or three generations. Who are her parents?"

"We don't know," Malachi admitted.

"Oh... I see..."

That was a profound idea. And it suddenly explained so many things. Their unusual aptitude for magic, their insatiable pursuit of knowledge and order, their disregard for basic physical limitations and ability to surpass them... Whoever the twin's parents were, one of them had been at least part Lunarian.

Had KluYa been the only one to visit the Blue Planet recently? Could there be others hiding around the world right now? Could it be, that Palom and Porom really did have a family missing them at this very moment?

But it was all too much for Palom. His breath became short, and he looked like he might begin to hyperventilate. Hot, angry tears were streaming down his face again. With a strangled cry of fury, he turned and fled.

Cecil could guess at what his young friend was feeling. Confusion, anger, maybe even betrayal for some unknown reason. He had been sorely cheated, all these years. Cheated of knowledge that could have made his life very different. Knowing very well what it was like to be a nameless orphan, and to finally learn where he had come from, Cecil didn't blame him.

"There may be a way to treat her, right here on the Blue Planet," Theo said slowly. "This radiation attacks the light. Therefore, it can be treated with darkness. The Lunarians posses eight crystals, as this planet does-four of the light, and four of the dark. Exposure to the moon's dark crystals has counteracted this poisoning in the past. Exposure to this planet's dark crystals should produce the same effect."

"Then we should do that," Cecil insisted. "We should do that right now!"

"I cannot say for sure if it will work. These are two very different types of energy. This plan may work exactly the opposite from what we hope."

"It is worth a try. We have to try."

Theo nodded. "Yes, we do."

"What must be done, then?" Malachi asked. "Whatever you need, I will provide."

"Make her as ready to travel as you can. I'm going to write to my wife and send for an airship. We are going to the Underworld."

"A pen and paper, then. You will find both in the library."

"Thank you. Ill be back shortly."

As Cecil left, he heard the Elder address Theo.

"It is a blessing and a miracle to have you here, kind stranger. May I ask your name, young man?"

"It is Theo."

Something was going halfway right. Perhaps this ordeal would have a happy ending.

As he sat in the library, scribbling letters and sending them off, he heard snippets of the other mages' conversations.

"It can't be mere coincidence, that no other white mages have fallen ill."

"Yes, I know. The only unclean white mage in the city is the only one to be sick. Thank goodness for small things."

"We all warned him that no good could come of keeping those two around. Like a pair of mongrel pups to keep as pets. When you take in strays, your whole house ends up filled with fleas. We've all warned him, that no one can deny."

"All the same, those two should be put under quarantine. For the safety and fairness of the rest of us. The proper rites can ward off ill curses, true. But what if this is no mere curse of defiled men? They don't always ward off disease. And if my children fall prey to whatever the brat has contracted, there will be hell to pay for it."

Having to listen to these comments made Cecil's blood boil. Knowing that retaliation was futile made him feel even worse. The one time he had tried had been the time he had decided never to try again.

_"But look at all they've done for you!" he shouted at the mages before him. "They've saved your lives! We would not be here if it weren't for them!"_

_The white mage fixed his hood nervously and stated plainly, "Because of you, we are saved. The twins have had very little to do with it."_

_"And without them I would be dead, a thousand times! I don't understand how you refuse to see this!"_

_"Those who are unclean are unclean for a reason, paladin," the black mage said starkly. "You merely perceive them as pure and good, because you are yourself unclean. It is simply the way things are. There is no one to blame but themselves."_

_"Or those who refuse to grant them mercy."_

_"What, and sully ourselves? I think not! I will not ruin myself, on behalf of two waifs who can't point to their own father. They were born in darkness, and they will live and die in darkness. That is not our fault."_

_"So that's it, then. Here you are, the world's great mages, and you refuse to help them. No matter what they do, you will not save them."_

_"The sooner you come to accept their fate, the sooner you will find peace," the white mage instructed calmly. Serenely. "We have done this, and we are all the better for it. We suggest you do the same, young man."_

_Cecil gave them a testy smile. "You forget. I am a paladin. Denying someone mercy for something no one can help is a luxury I am no longer allowed."_

_The black mage sniffed doubtfully. "You speak mightily. But test this against the man we all know you are. You will see reason, in time."_

Cecil had deliberately carried on with few Mysidians since then. It was Malachi who had shown him forgiveness, and the twins who had shown him the path to it. The Mysidians who had faith in him saw him only as a product of their own making-a shining example of the redemption they preached, who should therefore belong solely to them. Mostly, they treated him with the indifference that they practiced when they weren't interacting with the outside world. He had done terrible things against his will, in a moment of weakness. In their eyes, he could never be truly redeemed. No matter how frequently he save their city or their lives, or anything else, he was lost. It couldn't be helped that he was to be unclean for the rest of his life. There was no reason to get themselves dirty trying.

They could beat him all they wanted. He could handle it. But to punish children for the manner of their birth-as if they had chosen it on purpose-was a crime worthy of every punishment these people feared most.

Cecil finished a short letter to the dwarf king, keeping it as brief as he could, and sent it. He hoped the dwarves could assemble all four of their world's crystals by the time he got down there. Even with the impending wait for the airship to arrive, the trip would not take long. He didn't even expect a reply from Rosa. Knowing her, she would simply jump to action and arrive in Mysidia well before nightfall.

In the meantime, he decided it was time to find Palom and explain the plan to him. In spite of his battling emotions, knowing that there was a real plan in place would bring him a measure of peace. And Cecil had a pretty good idea of where to find him. He backtracked to the broom closet outside the kitchen, and another memory occurred to him.

_He slowly opened the door, not surprised at all to find Palom huddled in the corner, crying into his knees._

_"Hey, can I come in?"_

_"Go away!"_

_Cecil ignored him and stepped into the closet, closing the door behind him and sitting in front of the boy._

_"Your sister said I might find you here."_

_"She did what?! Tattle-tale..."_

_"Come on, tell me what's wrong. Maybe I can help."_

_"No way, you can't. You're a paladin now. You can't just go around punching people in the face anymore."_

_"..."_

_"One of the big kids was pulling my hair. He tried to cut my braid off! He said it was unfair that I got to wear it. He said I didn't deserve it. He said... I deserve to die. I don't even know what I did!"_

_Feeling deeply sorry, Cecil carefully scooped the boy into his lap and gave him a hug. Palom didn't return it; he just flopped limply against his chest and sighed wearily._

_"Cecil, why are they so mean?"_

_"I don't know, Palom. If I could change that, I would."_

_"Do you think they'll ever be nice?"_

_"I... Don't know. But I'll always be nice to you. And so will all the other Light Warriors. No matter what happens, we love you. We all do."_

Palom was hardly a little boy to have his feelings easily hugged away anymore. That didn't matter. He needed a hug, and no one else was going to give him one.

Inside the closet, Palom sat huddled in the corner, unusually small for his age. As if he were trying to disappear entirely. Not waiting for a response-knowing he wouldn't get one-Cecil stepped inside and closed the door, sitting in front of him.

"I had a feeling I'd find you here."

"I don't know what to do... I feel so cold..."

Cecil took his ha ds and held them tightly; they were, in fact, very cold. "Everything is going to be alright. I promise."

"You can't promise something like that. My sister's going to die, isn't she?"

"She doesn't have to. We have a plan: we're taking her to the Underworld."

Palom looked up with confusion in his eyes. "What? What good is that going to do?"

"Theo says that if light has made her sick, then maybe darkness can make her well again. I've sent a letter to the dwarves, asking them to assemble their crystals for us; and Rosa is coming with an airship that will take us there."

Palom made a face. "Who the heck is that guy? Why does he care? Why is he even here?"

"He is like me," Cecil explained slowly. "His father was a Lunarian. He had been with them for a long time, but decided it was time to return."

"So its his fault this has happened!"

"No, its not. They didn't know this would happen. And now he's trying to help. Don't be this way."

"If he hadn't had to come back, none of this would have happened! _None _of it! I wish he had never come here!"

"Palom-"

"I never asked to know this! I was better off not knowing! When he could have been anyone, anywhere, it was one thing-but he was just a Lunarian, like all the others. He never cared..."

"Well... Mine did."

Palom sniffled, not cheered in the least. "What does it matter, now? Porom was right. We'll never find our father after all. I always thought we could, if we just looked hard enough. I was so stupid."

"No, you weren't. You were brave to hope, and braver to get up and go search for yourselves. Many others would have done the same. Heaven knows I did."

"But its not the same... This plan of his, is it really going to work?"

"He doubts himself, but I do not. There's no reason it shouldn't work."

"Why do you trust him? You don't even know him."

"I do, actually. A little. I have every reason to trust him. He knows what he's talking about, even if he lacks the confidence that comes naturally to us."

"Speak for yourself. I feel so useless. My sister is dying, and I don't even have the power to ease her pain. If I lose her... Cecil, if she dies, I don't know what I'm going to do. We've never been apart, not a day in all our life. I don't even know if I can live without her. If I lose her now, I might just follow her without meaning to."

"Then we can't lose her, can we? I'm not letting that happen, and I refuse to believe you would give up this easily. We'll all live through this; we'll walk through it together. Perhaps as a true family."

"...You really think we might be related?"

"Who knows? Perhaps we've been right here under each other's noses all along. Perhaps destiny brought us together just for this. I would certainly like to think so, and I intend to go on acting like it."

"Huh... I guess I can believe in that, too."

"That's more like the Palom we all know and love. Come on, lets get out of this closet and get ready to go. If I know my wife, she's already on her way."

Palom let himself be hauled to his feet, and be led out of the closet. In the light outside, his lack of sleep showed starkly on his blood streaked face. Cecil put his arm around him and drew him toward the stairs.

"First thing's first, lets get you into some clean clothes. You can't go before the king of the Underworld without a shirt on."

A thought suddenly occurred to him as the climbed the stairs.

"Where are your friends? Ivri should be here, at least, shouldn't he?"

"I don't know. I had sent for them, but they never came. I wouldn't have left the summons to someone else, but I couldn't leave Porom. Not when she needed me. They probably have no idea what's happening. The people we sent probably never left the tower..."

Cecil nodded decisively. "You go change. I'll make sure they come."

"Thanks."

Cecil trotted back down the stairs and went back to the infirmary, where he found Theo and Malachi in deep conversation. However, when he came in, they stopped talking and looked at him expectantly.

"Well, letters have been sent," he announced. "Rosa should be here in a few hours, and I expect a reply from Giott soon. I don't think he will object to our request, he and his daughter are very fond of the twins. They'll be happy to help."

Malachi clasped his hand tightly. "Bless you, young man, for all your help. Whatever would we do without you?"

"There was something else. Where are Bethany and Ivri? Palom said they had been sent for, though they never actually came."

"Oh... They were sent for, weren't they," the older man said slowly. "I had quite forgotten, in all the commotion. My children needed the support of their friends. I had expected them to have come running. Though now that I look around, it seems they never did arrive."

"Perhaps those you sent to collect them never bothered leaving, while you were distracted."

Malachi frowned, displeased, and stormed out of the room. "I will see with my own eyes that this is rectified. My household grows ever smaller, it seems. Where have Alma and Kellan gone? Bring them to me at once!"

A pair of red mages cautiously made their way out of the crowd in the entrance hall, coming to stand rather grudgingly before him.

"Yes, your holiness?" the boy asked.

"Young man, I left you and your sister with a simple task. Do tell me that it was completed."

The girl, Alma, bowed her head sheepishly. "We thought it best if we remained here, should you need us for more pressing matters."

"There were few more pressing matters you could have been called upon for! You don't mean to tell me you never left!"

"It was an impertinent matter, sir," Kellan insisted. "Had we gone on that errand, it would have been a waste of time. Their parents would not have allowed them to leave. Not for this."

"Not even when their Elder summons them personally? You presume to know better than me? In my own house? And what, may I ask, have the two of you accomplished in that time, instead? Anything of relevance? Anything of great importance?"

"We have remained largely in the observatory," Kellan answered proudly. "Observing the twin moon for signs of change."

"And has it moved?"

The brother and sister gazed down at the floor, embarrassed.

Malachi glared upon them. "You are to take sirs Cecil and Theodore into the city-Kellan to Ivri's home, and Alma to Bethany's-so that there is a witness to your errand. And this time, if they are not brought to the tower _immediately_ you will both lose more than your posts. I have no more to say of your lack of judgement. Take these men, and be on your ways."

Cecil stalked at once to Kellan, determined that he be the one to deliver the grim news to Ivri. After the fairly intimate exchange they had shared before, he owed it to the boy. Looking awkward and unsure, Theo walked behind Alma as the four of them walked to the door.

"Who are we going to see, again?" he asked.

"Their best friends. Alma will lead you to a young woman named Bethany; she is Palom's girlfriend, who he has been missing. For myself, I go to collect the young man who intends to marry Porom."

"Really? And here I was believing that no one else in the world cared about them." Now Theo turned his dark eyes on his forced companion. "Shame on you, There's barely any more heart in you than the Lunarians. This was low of you."

"Indeed," Cecil agreed, pointing a glare of his own on Kellan. "You don't deny comfort to people in turmoil like this. Not in good conscience. How are the two of you so pleased with yourselves? Mages should know better! Were you anywhere else in the world, you would have been stripped of your titles and more."

Kellan lowered his head so his face was shaded by his red cap. "Good thing we live here, then. With the proper rites, we will be absolved of this minor infraction."

"Yet no rite on this planet can absolve me of the things I've done?"

"Pardon me. I don't recall having slaughtered innocents in their temple."

"Pardon me. I don't see you climbing a zombie infested mountain to beg forgiveness."

"There is little to forgive. I disobeyed a foolish order, given by an old man who has no regard for our ancient, holy laws."

Theo snorted. "Incredible. That these are the people with the power to produce paladins. You fools do not deserve that privilege."

Alma dared to turn a glare of her own back on him. "It is our divine right. The defiled have no place sanctifying themselves. People such as yourselves don't know the meaning of purity."

"I see no purity here. You are as bad as I am. Perhaps more so, for your fiendish intentions."

Alma gasped in alarm at the jab, silenced at last, and looked quickly away. She veered off suddenly down a different street, and Theo followed her closely. Perhaps he didn't know where she was leading him, or much about the girl he was going to see, but he wasn't letting his guide out of his sight.

"Theo is right," Cecil growled. "At least we try."

"No one has tried harder than the Elder's household to make this right. If he had allowed us to simply slit her throat and put her out of her misery, this would have been long behind us by now."

"...You did what!?"

"As an act of mercy! If our magic cannot solve this, there is nothing left to do."

Cecil couldn't help himself. He felt his last scrap of patience snap, like a lyre string tuned too tightly. He grabbed Kellan by the shoulder, forced the boy to face him, and slapped him across the face with all his strength. Kellan yelped in shock and pain, his cry echoing pitifully through the deserted street. His feathered cap was knocked off his head, revealing his face at last. He looked fully terrified. Cecil allowed himself to feel mildly pleased, to have knocked some respect into him.

Still gripping him by the shoulder, he pointed sharply down the street.

"Move."

Kellan dared to be brave. "So much for a holy warrior."

"Justice, for those who cannot help themselves. _Move_."

Looking more than cowed, Kellan gave up being brave. He didn't even stop to retrieve his hat; all hes seemed to want was to escape the his chaperone's vengeful watch. After continuing down a few more streets in tense silence, Kellan approached a house with a bright yellow door and rapped on it sharply.

_This had better be the right house. Too much time has been wasted with this task._

The door opened right away to reveal a blonde woman in a gray dress, looking weary from a long night and day's meditation. Though when she saw who was on her doorstep, she became much more alert.

"My lord!" she greeted politely, largely ignoring Kellan. "It is an honor. How may I help you?"

"Does a young man named Ivri live here?"

"Yes. He is my son," the woman answered warily.

Cecil nodded his head, pleased. "I must ask for him to come with us. The Elder has sent for him. Urgently."

"Mother? What's going on?"

Ivri appeared behind his mother, looking around her to see who was calling on them. She seemed to purposefully block his view and his way, but he saw his newest friend shining outside the door anyway. His freckled, bespectacled face lit up at once, and he gently pushed his mother aside.

"So, now you've come to us," he commented cheerily. "How can we help you, sir?"

Cecil hated to burst the boy's bubble. He came bearing extremely bad news. He reached forward and took him by the arm, pulling him out into the street.

"Ivri, you need to come to the tower. Right now."

"Is something wrong?"

"Porom is very sick. She may be dying. We're going to-"

"What?! No! Take me, now!"

Before they could dash off like Ivri clearly wanted to, his mother grabbed his other arm and held him back.

"I don't think so," she said darkly, scowling at Cecil for stirring up such trouble. "My only son needn't be where there is sickness. Be on your way, and don't bother us with this foolishness again."

"Mother, no! I need to be with her, and you're not going to stop me."

"Use your common sense, my son. This sickness will run its course. With any luck, it will remove a mighty stumbling block from your path."

But Ivri pushed her away, deciding for himself what his stumbling block really was. Cecil hadn't imagined the boy could look so angry, but he looked furious and indignant. Leaving his mother an icy look, he turned to join his guides. Not bothering to wait on Kellan, who would surely take his sweet time returning, Cecil and Ivri sped off together toward the tower.

They arrived to see that Theo and Bethany had already done very much the same thing-they had only reached the tower first because she lived closer to it. Like her brother, Alma had yet to make it back; it was unlikely that either of them would return at all. They met Theo at once, standing and waiting for them just inside the door. On the other side of the entrance hall, red-headed Bethany sat on the stairs, holding her Palom tight as he cried into her shoulder.

She reminded Cecil of a falcon, guarding her nest. All her benevolent attention was focused on her distraught beloved, who needed her strength in his moment of weakness. In the other hand, she kept a vicious eye on every other mage who came near, daring them to question her judgement, threatening a well-aimed fire spell to their hems if they bothered her.

An older man in black mage's garb was descending the staircase only to furrow his brow at the scene as he sidestepped around her.

"You might take this excessive display elsewhere, young lady," he commented.

She whipped her head around to pin her sharp green eyes on him.

"Well _you _are wasting the room's precious air and space, so two can play at that game. Get out of my sight!"

The older mage was visibly displeased by her verbal assault, but hurried out of her range, all the same.

An excellent red mage: walking a fine line, managing to offer healing to those who needed it, and harm to those who deserved it in the same instant. She briefly returned her attention to Palom, lovingly stroking his hair and whispering comforts. She had also noticed when the shining king of Baron had returned, though, and looked up to see her less shiny friend beside him.

She caught Ivri's eye and nodded her head in the direction of the infirmary, looking extremely worried, even from across the distance. Ivri nodded back, and took off on his own to the room, where Malachi would presumably greet him with the long and short of what had happened.

With that brief adventure concluded, Cecil sagged against the wall beside his brother.

"Well, that went well," he commented.

"The girl's father wasn't even home. I met two of her older brothers, who teased her cruelly for coming to her own boyfriend's aid. Their father will come storming along to collect her later, when he finds out where she has gone so suddenly. I have a feeling he will not like it."

"He allowed her to spend the better part of last week in Baron," Cecil pointed out with a shrug. "It's possible, though, that she failed to mention who she was going with, and why. They spoke very little about their families, when they were with us. I imagine their parents are generally disappointed and worried with them. Ivri's mother certainly was."

"That is a shame. I doubt this young lady could be safer under the guard of 100 bloodhounds, than she is with this young man. They truly do care for one another, do they not?"

"They speak of wedding plans in broad daylight, as if it were happening next week."

"Ah, for youth, and the sting of romance. Yet another great emotion that I have gone without for too long..."

Cecil couldn't help but smirk at his brother. "Romance? You were in love, once?"

Theo glanced back at the floor and crossed his arms defensively. "That is a tale for never."

"Alright, alright. I understand."

But in truth, he did not. In fact, he was boiling with curiosity.

Another hour passed in relative silence, as the household waited tensely for the queen of Baron to arrive with an airship. Very little happened in that time. Though everyone was relieved when a response arrived from the dwarves. The hand that wrote it was certainly Giott's-it was hasty and to the point, without any silly flourishes, though occasionally difficult to read properly. The letter informed them, however, that three fleets had been sent out to retrieve the crystals of the Underworld. All four would be assembled at the castle by morning the next day-the best they could manage so suddenly, the king apologized, though it would certainly be realized as quickly as possible.

Cecil did a quick calculation of the time. They would arrive at the castle well before the crystals did. He didn't like that; Palom was going to like it even less. But it was incredibly short notice, and everyone was doing the best they could...

All the same, Porom lay unconscious with her veins full of radioactive blood, which was violently wrestling its way out of her in every way it could. In spite of all their plans and hopes and promises, she was rapidly running out of time. How much more did she have left? How much more could they afford her? As minutes continued to tick by, Cecil became antsy and impatient. Where was Rosa? What was taking her so long...?

The sun was beginning to set, when finally he heard the hum of engines in the near distance. Standing outside the door to the tower, he was overcome with relief at the sight of a small airship coming closer and closer. On a normal day, it would have landed outside the city limits. However, the craft was small and sleek, and had been given leave to land in the tower's circular courtyard. There was no time or reason to march a dying girl all the way through the city, if the ship that would take her to treatment could land right outside the door. The citizens were sure to disapprove of this-so much needless noise and fuss, when they were trying to meditate, for goodness sake, and to what end?

Never minding what people would think of it, Cecil stood in silence as he waited for his wife to appear. She was in doctor mode: sleeves rolled up, hair out of her face, and an unusually stern expression that betrayed her queenship completely. As she marched off the ship with a pair of assistants following her, Cecil walked up to meet her.

"The Underworld? Really?"

"I know, I know, and I'm sorry! Its not my fault all this is happening at the last minute!"

"Is she really this bad off, I mean? If her state is as you've said, she's hardly in any shape to travel such a distance."

"If she doesn't make the trip, she won't have a chance at all. The mages fear that she can't hold out that long-if you could call it fear-but I know better. Porom is a strong girl. She can make it."

Rosa sighed, resigned.

"She's going to have to. It seems she has no other choice."

Cecil pointed her towards the infirmary, and her assistants followed her away. She stopped briefly to nod thankfully to her brother-in-law fo thinking so quickly, and he nodded back, glad to have been of help. There was little time for a more involved exchange.

Still on the stairs, Palom and Bethany had jumped to their feet to see that Rosa had finally arrived, and that there was an airship waiting outside. Without having to be told it was time to go, Palom stalked determinedly to the door, pulling Bethany along with him. Apparently, they had already discussed this. Still, Cecil felt the need to stop her before she got outside.

"Its a much longer way than to Baron," he cautioned her. "And I cannot guarantee how this will end. All I can tell you right now is that if you board this ship with us, you maybe stuck with us for a very long time, and we won't be able to bring you back."

To this, Bethany scoffed. "Good."

She was still furious that she had been sent for but never given the message. All the previous night and into this afternoon, her best friend had been dying an agonizing death, and her beloved had been left without a guardian or a comforter, and the people around them had done everything in their power to make sure she did not know about it. She looked ready to torch the whole city for the betrayal.

At the same time, she held her arms around Palom's slumped shoulders and gently guided him out into the deepening light.

"Hey, we're going to be okay, okay? Everything is going to be fine. And I'm not letting you out of my sight for even a second, I promise. I'll be right here, right next to you, and I'm not leaving until all this is over."

Theo came to stand in the doorway, watching with what seemed to be amusement as the young couple was ushered aboard by the ship's pilot.

"A formidable pair," he commented absently. "They have the power to will death away from her, I think."

"I agree. Better get on board, brother, its about to get very crowded on this tiny vessel."

Theo took his brother's advice and headed off to board the ship. Only a few minutes later, Rosa and her assistants filed out of the infirmary, the two students guiding Porom toward the door on a stretcher. She looked little better since the last time he had checked on her; if anything, her face seemed paler than before from further lack of blood.

Ivri trotted along at Rosa's side, trying not to get in her way, but clearly too worried to care if he did. She didn't seem to mind him, though. She understood fully and completely, and would allow it. Cecil thought to give the boy due warning about the journey that lay before him, as he had for Bethany; but as Ivri hurried right past him, hardly noticing him there, the king decided it was unnecessary. Ivri understood that there was no turning back. And even if he didn't, it wouldn't have changed his mind and he wouldn't have cared.

At last, they were taking off. As Cecil started out the door, a hand caught him by the arm. He turned and looked down to see a very fretful Malachi, his brown eyes glassy with tears.

"I wish that I could accompany you, but I must remain here. I do not doubt that you will take care of them, in my place."

Cecil smiled down at him. "I will. Porom will survive this. I know I shouldn't promise this, but I know she will."

"I must ask one thing more of you, young man," the Elder said quickly, removing a silver chain from around his neck and handing it over to Cecil. A thick silver ring hung from it, the top graced with a sizeable, square-cut ruby. Many armories and magic shops sold such rings-rubies are said to hold the spark of life, therefore valuable as protection. However, this piece was unlike the uniformly manufactured ruby rings he was familiar with. There was writing etched on the inside of the band, but it was in a rune language he couldn't read. The stone was crudely cut, though brilliantly polished, and sat at an odd but secure angle in the raised setting.

"I should have given them this ring when they returned from Baron. But we were all distracted by the moon's sudden return, and then by Porom's illness, and it fell by the wayside. This ring belonged to their mother; it was one of the few posessions she came to us with. Her final wish was that it pass to the twins, when they reached her age. It... Has its own secrets about it, which are for them to discover for themselves.

"I regret that Porom is unable to enjoy it at the moment. But you will give it to Palom for me, won't you? Perhaps it is better that I forgot about it earlier. Perhaps in this moment, when he most needs cheering up, this will raise his spirits and give him hope."

Cecil clasped the ring and nodded his head.

"Of course. I'll make sure that he gets this as soon as I can."

"Godspeed, then, my son. Go quickly."

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Author's Notes...

I just realized, if Cecil is Superman... Theo can be Batman. Palom can be Kid Flash. ;D

Lol, horrendously inappropriate frivolity is the best.


	7. Chapter 6: The Ring of Truth

I am skipping a bunch of time this chapter, and I really don't have an apology for that. More important things. Underworld is not necessarily one of them. Turns out it is hard to write from the POV of an unconscious person. :/

Myth, Moonclaw, and Lady. You are awesome, as always. ;)

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_Chapter 6: The Ring of Truth_

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As the small airship sped over the ocean, to the island of Agart which would lead down into the Underworld, Theo kept a close eye on his brother's young friend. The boy was a pitiful sight, even in clean clothes; clad in red, he didn't look entirely different from when they had abruptly met. He was still trembling badly from fear, and his lack of sleep was more than obvious in his every motion. For such a large boy, he had become remarkably small.

He had expected more, from the young prodigy named after the sun itself. However, circumstances as they were, he was more moved to compassion. He had never personally experienced a fear such as this-to be so close to losing a loved one, having a solution within reach, but having no way to know if it would be enough. All the loses he had known had been sudden, over and done before he had even known what was going on. He had lost himself just as easily, and there had been no going back.

Even with Bethany at his side, trying to calm him, Palom was a scared, antsy wreck. He would have been in the brig, with his dying twin, if he had his way. But the one room below was cramped enough when empty; with the queen, her two assistants, and her precious patient, there was absolutely no room for anyone else. There wasn't even room for Ivri, another good healer who could have been helping them.

Rosa assured the two boys that their being there was helpful enough, and that if they wanted to assist her in any other way, they should pray. It was what Porom needed more than anything else, until they got where they were going. Ivri seemed passably content with this, and was now situated out of the wind in deep meditation. Palom was far less than content with this; being a rather flamboyant balck mage, prayer wasn't something he was exactly inclined to be good at. It required too much patience. If only he could aim a high-leveled Fire spell at the problem and charbroil it to death, he would have been happy. Instead, all he could do was pace the deck and continue to worry.

Having nothing to say or do, not even entirely sure why he was still here, Theo kept a casual watch over the three teens on the deck. Especially Palom, who he was sure would keel over from exhaustion if he went on like this much longer. He occasionally glanced at the helm, where his brother was busy assisting the pilot with navigation. At least Cecil had something meaningful, that he was good at, to pass the time. He had always been good at air travel. It was a gift that would help ease everyone's trouble.

Lucky. He was glad to have been so helpful diagnosing the problem and formulating a plan. But that was over. Now he felt like an outsider looking in. He felt too far removed from these people to belong in the middle of their turmoil.

It took very little time for Agart to appear on the horizon. It had been a few fleeting hours-which wasn't much time at all, by airship, but a lot of time for someone so close to death. Still hovering out of the way but never to far off, his interest suddenly picked up as Cecil detached himself from the helm and walked with uncanny grace to where Palom was still pacing back and forth.

How did he do that? Was it just his familiarity with the movement of airborne crafts, or the unearthly power he was filled with? Theo wished that he possessed such a grace; he found it difficult to move around the deck without ending up several yards off from his target, and so had stayed put for most of the flight.

He watched as Cecil stopped the boy's pacing, by laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"We'll be landing soon."

"Oh... Good..."

"Listen, I have something for you, from the Elder," the paladin remarked, reaching into his pants pocket. "He had meant to give it to you when you came back from Baron, but he got... Sidetracked."

He handed over something strung on a gold chain, which Palom took and stared at blankly.

"He said it belonged to your mother. She had asked that it pass to you and Porom, when you were old enough."

"Oh... I didn't know she had left anything but us behind. Thanks."

"He wished that he had been able to come with us. He doesn't like being so far from her, either."

"Nah, its okay," Palom answered, pulling the chain over his head and stuffing the object on it into his shirt. "I guess he's got a lot of stuff to do. I wish he had been able to come, too. But I'm glad that my friends are here."

"They wouldn't have abandoned you at a time like this. You've chosen your friends wisely."

"Bethany's been so patient. I do appreciate what she's done for me this whole trip, but I just can't feel the feelings to show it. I feel like an ass."

"At least you come by it honestly. I think she understands."

"Cecil... When we get there... You won't tell anyone if I dissappear in the tavern for a while, will you?"

"That's no way to deal with your problems."

"I need a drink."

"You need a bed."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead. I need a drink."

"...Well, I certainly can't stop you. But if you insist on drugging yourself, I would recommend sleep in place of dwarven mead. Its too strong to help you the way you think it will."

"I'll take my chances. Just don't tell anyone. I'd rather be alone for a little while."

"Alright, then, I can keep a secret. I just pray that you reconsider."

Leaving the boy a very worried look, Cecil returned to the helm to take over. The descent into the Underworld was a terrifying downward dive that he had piloted himself numerous times. He might not have trusted another, more experienced pilot with it on any day. When the life of a loved one hung so precariously in the balance, there was no question. He spoke a quick word with the helmsman, who nodded, and walked onto the deck.

"All hands, hold onto something," he directed. "We are preparing to go down. Someone alert the mages downstairs. Its about to get very steep."

Being closest to the door that led to the brig, Ivri jumped up and stuck his head into the stairwell, relaying the warning to the healers below. He stepped through the door and down the first few steps, holding tightly to the door frame. Bethany joined him in the stairwell, bracing herself beside him. Palom looked after them, deciding that the stairwell was now too full for him, and instead joined Theo at the mast.

Theo had yet to get a clear look at him in good light. There was definite Lunarian heritage in his face-it was a fine, scholarly face, which had a strange beauty to it. Upon first glance, Palom was as handsome a young man as any other; a closer look revealed a refinement that wasn't entirely of this world. Had she not been so ill and covered in blood, Theo supposed that Porom shared that beauty. A beauty that had been bred for perfection, to match the perfection of the Lunarian's intelligence. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

And not supposed to be shared so easily with imperfect human beings. Yet here they stood, hijacking it. Palom hadn't been lucky enough to have inherited an unusual hair color, though. Theo's hair was a dark shade of purple, very nearly black, like his father's had been; Cecil's was pure white, like their uncle's, though their mother's being blonde had certainly helped with that. The twins were relatively normal brunettes, with nothing especially outstanding about it. Theo wondered who they had gotten that from: their father's family, or their mother's.

Palom slowly, awkwardly turned to look up at him. His eyes were deep, vibrant violet. That was definitely a Lunarian trait, which unnerved Theo just a little bit. It was like looking into a mirror at his own eyes-heavy with sorrow and worry.

"So... Thanks, for helping us out like this," the boy said slowly. "You didn't have to, but... Just, thanks."

"It was no trouble. Many lives have been lost at my hand; I'll be damned if I let another just slip away, if I can help it. In all honesty, I had returned to try to amend the damage I did here. Had I known it would only cause more damage, I might have just stayed away."

Palom made an odd face. "You worked for that freak, too?"

"Freak? I don't follow."

"Golbez. He had brainwashed one of Cecil's friends, during the war; but we always knew he wasn't the only one. Geez, for something that big, you'd need a lot more manpower than just Kain Highwind. So, Golbez got you, too, huh?"

Of course, Palom didn't know who he was talking to. Hearing it put so bluntly hurt, anyway. Theo looked away, hoping the true source of his shame wasn't obvious.

"It... Was why I decided to leave, in the end," he answered.

"'Cause, you're part Lunarian, too. That's nice... Are there a lot of people on the Blue Planet who are... Like us?"

"I am no longer sure. There had been one or two attempts to make contact with humankind. Though none of them had ever planned for things to go so far. The idea that their own people would bear children with humans is revolting to them. I'm surprised they let me stay with them at all."

"Huh. Guess I don't stand much of a chance, then."

"Trust me, young man, there is nothing there for you. If there was, I would not have needed to return. For all their intelligence and technology, the concept of emotions is beyond them. They like to say _beneath_ them, but that is just a clever excuse. Sometimes I wonder, who is truly more advanced than whom."

Palom gave him another unfathomable look and turned away, gazing off toward the gaping hole in the middle of the island before them. Not much longer, at all. Theo hoped the boy felt even a small measure of ease at this. When they arrived before all the crystals they needed, he hoped it wouldn't come to blows.

Perhaps a drink was exactly what he needed, after all.

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The Underworld was exactly as Theo remembered. Hot and dark. Even without heavy armor, it was scorching hot outside, and annoyingly humid inside the dwarven castle. He feared he would never dry off. How on earth did the dwarves survive in such a place?

However, he was relieved to find that the dwarves themselves were nowhere near as annoying as he remembered or had anticipated. On the contrary, he found them an amiable and fascinating race. And they were certainly fond of Cecil and Rosa, because they were welcomed more than warmly. Not as the king and queen they were, but as dear friends. The twins had been greeted with a great deal of fussing and fretting by the medical staff, and by Luca, the teenaged princess who was their friend and almost overly concerned. The rest of the ship's passengers had also been tended to kindly, quickly offered food and rooms to rest in.

Having nothing better to do while he was around, Theo went straight to his allotted room and sat on the edge of the bed, surveying his new surroundings. On a dwarven scale, the ceiling was vaulted to keep the small space cool: on a human scale, it was about the size of any normal room. The bed took up an entire wall, being barely his size; now that humans came and went frequently, of course there would be some on hand.

It was fine with him. Though he anticipated spending most of his stay in his room, out of the way and out of trouble, he hardly needed much. Wondering where the rest of his companions had gone, he dared to venture out into the castle and look around.

He still needed to figure out how to apologize to Giott, the king whose country he had invaded, whose military he had nearly decimated, whose own daughter he felt he had used against him. That last part, he tried to rationalize, was not entirely true. He had bewitched her toys, and never even touched the girl. All the same, that had been a dirty, underhanded trick. Most of his tricks had been.

Well, what little family he had had already forgiven him. Quite easily, in fact. He tried to feel hopeful, about that. Still, he didn't imagine that the other kings and queens he had wronged would be so understanding. They weren't family, after all, even if his brother and sister-in-law vouched for him.

Having a pretty good idea where he might find Palom, at least, he searched out the tavern, deep in the castle's heart. He felt lost by the time he found it, and wondered if he would be able to find his room again when he left. At this time of day, there weren't many occupants; most of the castle's residents would still be hard at work, or seeing to their guests. However, his quarry stuck out like a sore thumb in the dim light. And, though Palom had spoken of needing to be alone with his drink, Bethany was sitting beside him with a pint of her own.

She seemed normal enough. Palom, on the other hand, had three empty glasses in front of him already, with his head in his arms on the table top, sniffling pathetically again and mumbling incoherently. Bethany just nodded her head patiently and patted his back soothingly.

"That's it, sweetheart, just let it out," she was saying softly as Theo approached them. She looked up at him, surprised to see him, but nodded a silent hello.

"I... Thought I might find him here," he said slowly.

"If he were himself, I'm sure he would appreciate your concern," she answered. "Then, if he were himself, we probably wouldn't be here in the first place."

Palom still hadn't noticed him, and Theo was rather thankful for that. Leaving them for a moment, he went to speak to the bartender.

"A pint of whatever they're having, please."

The squat little man narrowed his beady eyes at him. "I cannae gie that 'un no mawr," he said suspiciously, his accent so thick that Theo almost didn't understand him. "Hae too much already! S'gain regalations, ye knoo!"

"No, no, for me."

The bartender huffed at him, but quickly grabbed a clean glass from a shelf and filled it from a large barrel. Still, he regarded Theo with suspicion.

"An' if I're te catch ye sneaken te 'im, I'll hae yer bum threwn oot! Teh thar lass, she be bad enoof! I'll be kepen me eye en that 'un, I will..."

Theo gave the bartender as sincere a smile as he could, as he took his glass. Turning back to join the teens at their table, he wondered if Bethany had bought that pint for herself. She certainly didn't seem to have touched it.

"There are better ways to self-medicate," he pointed out as he sat down.

"I've already offered. He said no. The least I could do was keep an eye on him."

"And help administer treatment?"

Bethany glanced down at her untouched pint, and pushed it a little farther away, as if she hadn't anything to do with it. She looked back at him sternly, willing him to be convinced; but the look he answered with begged her to be honest.

Bethany sighed briskly. "Don't let the others know about this, please. Especially not Porom, when she comes around. If she finds out I purposefully got her brother trashed, she won't let him marry me anymore. That agreement is already uneasy enough."

She was trying to make light of the situation, even if it wasn't entirely appropriate. Theo could tell right away, she wasn't the type to tolerate a foul mood for long. This was the one who would attempt to raise people's spirits when all hope seemed lost. But in this dire moment, even she was having a hard time being cheered.

Theo humored her, by smirking at her joking. "I hadn't realized that you were to be married."

"Well, not yet. But we are determined that it happen someday soon."

"That is good and well fo you, then."

"And what of you, sir? A good looking guy like you's got to have just as good looking a woman waiting for him, back wherever it is you've come from."

Theo looked sharply at the wall and drank deeply from his glass.

"No, huh? Bet that won't last long."

"Yes, it will. There was... Once, a long time ago... But that was a long time ago."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Again, it was a long time ago. Surely, she has moved on as much as I have. I doubt we would recognize each other if we ever met again. But that is the past. The present and future are more pressing."

"How do you know the king, anyway? Are you another one of the Light Warriors?"

"Um... No. We are... Shall we say, old acquaintances. I've just been away for a while, and had returned for a time. And then this happened, and he requested I come with him. I wonder, if he knew that I would find a use on this adventure. I certainly hadn't expected it."

"Well, in any case, thank you. Palom Isn't the only person Porom is dear to. She's the sister I've never had. She's my best friend. So, on behalf of all of us, thanks. Just thanks."

Theo gave her an encouraging smile, and raised his glass. "To miracles."

She raised hers, and they softly clinked them together.

"In the meantime, what shall we do with him?" he asked, nodding to still-oblivious Palom.

"I suppose I should return him to his room, before anyone notices he's missing. I believe his majesty knows that we're here; but I don't think his wife will be so understanding."

"I agree. Yes, let us finish these and be out of here. This mead is beautiful, but I do not like how the bartender keeps staring at us..."

Bethany cautiously peered at the bar, where the suspicious bartender still had his eye squarely on them. As if he were trying to gauge how many mouthfuls it would take to devour them, if they stepped out of line.

"I suppose you opened a tab?"

"Well, Palom did. I don't think he thought to bring any money with him, though..."

"Then gather him up and get him out of here. I will pay the tab, and I shall rejoin you in a while. I intend to finish this lovely pint. If you aren't able, I will take care of yours, as well."

"Again, thank you," she agreed as she stood up.

"You are not so familiar with the joys of alcohol, are you?" he guessed.

"My few experiences with the stuff have been bad," she answered quicky, tugging Palom to his feet.

"Come on, sweetheart, time to go."

"Hey, I wasn't finished yet!"

"You've been quite finished. Let's find you a bed. Quickly."

She pulled his arm around her shoulders and helped him stumble out of the tavern, looking concerned. He forgot about whatever he thought he hadn't finished yet, and began babbling about other things instead.

"I still say it's Moony's fault this happened. I hate that stupid moon! I hate everything in it and on it and everything to do with it!"

"Hush, dear, not so loud."

"Hey, Bethy, have you ever been on stilts? Its not that great."

"Yes, yes, you've mentioned it several times, now."

As they awkwardly shuffled out, the bartender bristled visibly. Theo walked quickly to see him before he began shouting.

"Yer sneaky wee friends're runnin' oot wi'oot payin' me! Ye hawl 'em right backen 'ere an' make 'em doo someat aboot it!"

"Actually, kind sir, I will be paying for them," Theo answered evenly, reaching into his pocket. "How much do I owe you, for all five glasses?"

Looking angered at having nothing now to complain about, the bartender sighed tersely. "Twenteh an' fie'."

"Very well, then."

Theo hadn't left with any gil, either. Luckily, his brother had left him some when they had arrived. He imagined there must be about 100 gold coins in the pouch he had been given. He counted out the 25 coins and handed them over. At last, the bartender looked mildly pleased. In fact, as he took the coins in his big, meaty paw and recounted them, his face softened. He sighed again, looking almost sympathetic.

"I dinno mean ta be so 'ard wi'em, ye knoo. Teh lad seems a good sort, an' a-mighteh distressed o're his sistar. An' teh wee lass, only tryin'a doo whas best, I suppoose. But rules're rules. They doo seem like good kids, teh booth of 'em."

Theo sort of wished the dwarf would stop trying to be engaging. It was still difficult to understand what he was saying. Satisfied that he had been paid duely, the bartender pocketed the coins and extended his hand.

"Dunno if I wan' those twoo back in 'ere, but yoo're welcome when'ere ya please. Dinno be a strangar!"

Theo shook the dwarf's big hand, slightly surprised that the smaller man's grip nearly crushed his hand.

"I will try," Theo agreed, and turned back to the table. Once his back was turned, he gently massaged his aching hand while the dwarf couldn't see.

How long would he be here? How long was his purse of gil going to last...?

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Rosa was happy to say, she finally felt optimistic about the situation. The long flight had been frightening, and had sapped her of a lot of energy. The radiation poisoning was as sticky as her husband had described; keeping Porom alive all that time had taken no less than a succession of Curaja spells, which still hadn't improved her condition.

By the time they had arrived, three dark crystals were already assembled. They were still waiting for an entourage to return from the Sealed Cave, with what was admitedly the most difficult crystal to find. Doubtful of the plan in the first place, Rosa had been worried. Even if these mysterious crystals could help, she wondered how much good they would do if one was still missing. However, even though there were only three together yet, their dark shade of magic seemed to be working. She feverishly monitored Porom's vitals, fearful of how they might change if she wasn't vigilant. Yet since they had arrived, those vitals had been slowly improving.

By no means was the girl stable. Her life still hung by a precarious thread. However, the effects of this unusual treatment restored Rosa's hope a bit. Perhaps there was a chance, after all.

She had never encountered an ailment like this before. She had never seen anything so dire, in all her years as a white mage. Being unable to counter it was unsettling. Not understanding it was even worse.

There wasn't much the dwarven healers could do, either. Having very little understanding of what a "moon" was, exactly, they understood the problem even less tha she did. They seemed to regard it as some sort of witchcraft. Fortunately, though, they also seemed convinced that she was some sort of goddess-patron guardian of all healers and white magic. She was most certainly the most advanced white mage they had ever met.

The dwarves had plenty of faith in her. So did Cecil, and Palom and his friends. She should have known better than to doubt the impossible, by now.

After a long time spent in silence at Porom's bedside, the door opened and shut closed. Cecil had appeared, with a hint of a smile on his face.

"They've returned with the final crystal," he announced.

"Oh, thank goodness," she sighed. "I was beginning to wonder if they'd ever be back. I... Was also beginning to wonder if Palom had noticed yet that it was missing. I had expected fireworks."

Cecil leaned against the door and crossed his arms. "With any luck, Bethany hit him with a Sleep spell before he could get very far. I hope that he's asleep. He needs to sleep, more than anything else. He's a wreck."

Rosa shook her head sadly. "I can't stand seeing them this way. Its almost more than I can bear. Just a few days ago, they were perfectly fine. They were their strong, bold, clever selves, the same as we've always known them. And now..."

"A painful reminder, of how everything can change in an instant," Cecil commented ruefully, coming to stand by the bed. "That doesn't make it fair to them, though."

"Life is rarely fair," she pointed out dismally, glancing around at the four corners of the bed. Each bedpost was flanked by a stool, three of them topped with the crystals. The fourth was empty. But not for much longer.

She had to bring this up, before people came with the fourth.

"Cecil... You know we can't send her back to Mysidia after this. If this does work and she is able to survive, she will still need a substantial length of time to recover fully. Malachai does what he can, we all know; but he can only protect her for so long. If what you've said of them is true, we can't trust her with them. Not when she's been so compromised."

"Yes, I know. I had been thinking the same thing, myself. The twins aren't children to be pushed and pulled back and forth at someone's will anymore. However, I refuse to let either of them return. Even after she's become strong again, I'm not letting her do that."

"I guess we don't have to worry about any protests from Palom. If it hadn't been for Porom being so stubborn, he would have fled Mysidia a long time ago. But we all know he can't do that."

"Well... That is that, then. I should find Theo, now that we have the fourth crystal. He knows more about this than anyone else. I don't suppose you'll let the boys in now, will you?"

"Maybe. I need space, if I'm going to do this properly."

"Ivri is a gentle, polite young man, but he losing his patience with you. And if you don't let Palom at least look at his sister for a few minutes, he is going to go insane. They want to see her, and they want to help you. You should let them."

"Oh, I know... Are they nearby?"

"I'm not sure where Palom has gone, but Ivri never left. He's still waiting outside."

"Okay. Let him in."

Cecil opened the door and stuck his head out, quietly beckoning the blonde boy outside. He two changed places, as Cecil went off to find his brother, and Ivri darted into the room and to the bedside. He slid to his knees and snatched Porom's hand in both of his, pressing her icy fingers to his lips.

"You are going to survive this," he whispered desperately. "You _are _going to survive this. I know you are. You can't leave us now. We need you here, with us. We all do. You can't just..."

Rosa came to stand beside him, bending down to place a hand on his shoulder. He slowly looked up at her, his green eyes glassy behind his glasses. She hadn't seen or heard him cry once, all through this whole ordeal. He was trying to be strong and sturdy, when some of them couldn't be. But he was still terrified.

Rosa gave him a comforting smile.

"Don't worry. We won't fail her, anymore than she would fail us. We owe her our lives, my husband and I. We had hoped never to have to return the favor... But that moment has come. We will not fail her. Not now."

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_It seemed that she was alone, in the dark cold place where she found herself. Before her was a wide lake, its pale water shimmering a phosphorescent blue. Her logical, medical side reasoned that it must be because some kind of bacteria made its home there, but that was unimportant. In the middle of the lake was a flat landmass colored copper and dingy yellow, by clay and sulphur. A similarly colored stretch of earth bridged the gap between her and the small island._

_On the far side of the island, she could make out a short pillar. Suspended just above it by ethereal magic, there was a staff that gleamed like gold, silver, and bronze. _

_She was curious. And there was nothing to hinder her, so she walked quickly, if not with abandon, across the earthen bridge and onto the island. Upon closer inspection, it seemed that the perimeter of the landmass was laced with large bones. The stuck out at odd angles, only partially uncovered; but whatever it had been in life, it had been something big. Big enough to circle the entire island-the top of its boxy head, and the last vertebrae of its long tail nearly making a complete circle, leaving just enough room for her to pass between them._

_She was very glad to not have to see it in real life._

_She stood in the center of the island, observing the gleaming staff with awe. It was intricately carved with delicate shapes. Gold, silver, and bronze flowed in and out of each other like water, as if the three metals were all one and the same. For all that the rest of it was thoughtfully, beautifully made, the top of the staff was different. The metal gracefully curved up into a diamond shape, with crudely cut, unpolished white gems jutting out of it at random angles. There was no rhyme or reason to how the stones had been placed. There were just a lot of them._

_Perhaps they were diamonds? Or perhaps they were something... Else. Something unwordly, and more powerful._

_She wasn't sure what it was. But alone in the deathly silence, it felt almost as if the staff was... Calling to her. Calling her to come and claim it. It was hers. It had always been hers. It had been here for an uncountable length of time, waiting for her to come._

_With a thrill of excitement, she went forward to take it. But she had only gone a few steps, before a shaking deep in the ground halted her. It began soft and slow, but built quickly to a deep, agonizing groan as the earth beneath her began to heave back and forth. _

_She spun around and saw, to her horror, that the bones were unearthing themselves. As they shifted and twisted themselves, a low, beastly growl sounded, muffled underground. In a panic, she forgot about the scepter and darted back the way she had come. But before she could make it back to the bridge, the tail of the dead monster ripped itself up with a thrash, raising a cloud of dust, and snapped into her with all the strength it had once had._

_She landed on her back, wind knocked out of her lungs, and unable to see through the dust that had risen around her. She scrambled to her feet, trying to see the way out._

_Instead, a monstrous shadow loomed up over the cloud. It roared in ferocious triumph, lifting its ghastly head toward the ceiling, showing off all its sharp, beautifully intact teeth._

_It snapped its head back down, glaring down on her with gaping, empty eye sockets, and growled hungrily._

_Her heart stopped. There would be no way out of this..._

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With a start, Porom's eyes flew open. A split second later, she wished they hadn't. The light was blinding, as if her eyes had never seen light before. And her whole body ached furiously. It felt like she had been beaten within an inch of her life. In fact, all she could remember presently was darkness and pain. They had gripped her for what had seemed like an eternity.

At least light and pain was a minor improvement...

She lay still, taking deep, gasping breaths, and dared to slowly open her eyes. Before they were open all the way, she heard a gasp of surprise from nearby, and footsteps hurrying toward her.

"Porom! Porom, you're awake! Hey, get everyone over here, she's finally awake!"

Relief washed over her. She would know that voice anywhere.

"...Palom..."

Not caring that she was still in pain from head to toe, he spang onto the bed and enveloped her in what was definitely the most painful hug she had ever received.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded tearfully in her ear. "Don't you ever do this to me again, or I'm gonna kill you! Do you even know what I've been through?"

Not sure in the slightest what she had done to incur such loving wrath, she put all her strength into hugging him back. It was a herculean task. He had better appreciate this.

For now, though, it was good just to hug him. The last time she had seen him, he had wretched her own blood all over him and then passed out in his arms. She had only regained consciousness a few very short times after that, but hadn't seen him; she vaguely remembered calling for him in that delirium, though. Even if he had been there, her sight had been too blurry to tell what anything was.

Whatever had happened after that, she had no idea. How long had she been unconscious?

After a few moments, Palom finally sat back and pushed a strand of hair out of her face, then just sat still to look at her. He looked amazed, probably looking into the face of a miracle, and more fretful than she had ever seen him before. He gently kissed her forehead, then brush tear off his own face.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a shaking voice.

There were no words to describe how not okay she was. She grimaced and shook her head.

"...What happened...?"

"You nearly died, is what happened," he snapped back. "You nearly died!"

Porom sighed. She'd had a bad feeling about that. It had certainly thought she was going to die. If not from the ailment itself, then from the pain it had caused her. She looked up at the ceiling, made of dark grey stone.

Nothing in Mysidia was made of that...

"Palom... Where are we?"

"We're in Baron. We're home."

She carefully turned her head to look around. She was in her own bedroom, in their suite at the castle. A cart full of medical supplies had been moved into it, and several bottles of medicine sat on her bedside table; but other than that, it was exactly as she had left it.

"Home" was not the word she would have chosen. It was too permanent. But her brother was right. This really _was _home, and she was very happy to be back. She attempted to sit up, but the soreness stopped her right away.

"Hey, hey, slow down. Geez, after what you just went through, you shouldn't be moving around so much," Palom teased, carefully helping her up. He had never been so concerned about her in all their lives. It was sweet and touching; but it was also unnerving.

"What exactly happened to me?"

"Its hard to explain. A lot of stuff happened while you were asleep."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Almost a week. Actually, Rosa didn't expect you to wake up for another couple of them... Boy, is she going to be surprised."

"And unhappy," she added. "So, it was really that bad?"

"Porom, it was awful! You threw up almost all your blood. They said it was poisoned, or radioactive, or... I don't know, something. I don't understand all of what they said. It was complicated."

"Radioactive?"

"The moon, and Lunarians, and crystals, and-I don't know, medical stuff. Geez, sis, there's so much I've got to tell you, and none of its easy."

"Well, I've got plenty of time, obviously."

He have her his usual cheeky smile. "Come on, Porom, you're in no condition to be talking like that."

She would have cuffed him over the head, if she'd had the strength.

"Um... Actually, before everyone else comes stampeding in here, I do have one thing I can show you." Palom reached into his shirt and pulled out what looked like a pendant hanging on a chain. He pulled it off over his head and took her limp hand in his, placing the pendant in her palm.

It was a silver ring, with an oddly shaped ruby perched atop the raised setting. She flexed her thumb to trace the silver band, finding it to be very beautiful, for all its oddness.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was mom's."

Porom looked up at him with wide, wondrous eyes.

"Malachi meant to give it to us when we came back before. Mom wanted him to wait until we were older to give it us. Guess we're older now, huh?"

Porom gazed back down at the ring, finding it even more beautiful than before.

"Hm... Yes, I guess we are."

"There's some writing on the inside, see? I don't know what language it is, but I'm going to find out. Maybe if we can figure out where it comes from...!"

The hopeful spark in Palom's violet eyes suddenly faded, and he looked away sadly. "Nah, you know what? Nevermind."

"No, no, you're right," she insisted. "Maybe this is the clue we've been missing all this time. Maybe now-"

She was cut off by her own wheezing cough, which tore through her chest like wildfire. That had been a lot of words in one place...

"Yeah, yeah, sure, we'll try our search again. When you're stronger and can get out of bed," he insisted brightly, bracing his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"Okay," she agreed, gasping for air. "When I'm out of bed. Not a second later. Promise?"

With a smile, he pulled her close and held her-gently this time.

"Promise."


	8. Chapter 7: A Better State of Mind

_Chapter 7: A Better State Of Mind_

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Two weeks passed, and Porom finally found her feet again. It was a relief, to finally be out of bed. Her lengthy recovery had been tedious and boring. Her poor perception of time didn't help, either. It felt like it had been two years, if it had been two weeks. It was exhausting

It had been ample time to absorb everything they had learned, though. So much had happened while she had been asleep; no one had been sure where to start. The revelation that she and her brother were very closely related to the Lunarians had been a shock and she wasn't sure if she had completely wrapped her head around it. It raised many more questions than it answered.

Trying not to let it bother her too badly, she focused more on the moon's radiation, and how it had nearly killed her. In spite of how dire the whole thing had been, her doctoral side found it extremely fascinating. She had immediately asked if there was a book about it that she could study. But Cecil's dark, mysterious friend had informed her no, there wasn't. At least, not in any language she could read. Not here, on the planet, anyway.

The stranger who everyone called Theo also intrigued her. He largely kept a respectful distance, only appearing when he was summoned. But it was clear that he was staying at the castle for the time being, because Cecil knew him somehow and insisted on it. How exactly they knew each other was as much a mystery as he was. The few comments about it were vague, at best.

All she knew with certainty was that he was also of strong Lunarian heritage, and that he had been involved against his will with Golbez during the war. Of course, she asked Kain if he had worked with the man before. He had insisted that their paths had never crossed, and that he didn't know him.

"I think I would have remembered those eyes," he had excused. "They're hard to miss."

When she wasn't bothered by all this cryptic business, her attention was happily taken up by her overly attentive twin, her boyfriend, and her best friend. Though their parents had called them home numerous times, Ivri and Bethany had remained steadfastly by her side. Their presence was a comfort that she couldn't begin to describe. She felt more safe than ever. And even if being stuck in bed had been a torturous bore, they kept her sparkling company as they always did.

The first place she went, once she was allowed outside, was to the gardens. She had always loved the vast, well kept gardens all around Baron. She had seen many, in her travels, but these were her favorite. Fragrant roses of all colors blossomed at every turn. Beds of lilies, daffodils, and poppies encircled towering marble fountains, all of which flowed with clear, sparkling water. Trellises rose twined with flowering vines. Many of the brick walls had moss creeping up them, left this way because it was charming to look at in spite of its overgrowth.

It was nice to be surrounded by living things. Porom had always loved flowers and trees. They were so full of life and strength and beauty that faded, but always sprang right back. They required care and nurturing, and training in some instances. In many ways, she saw herself in them.

However, on her first walk through the garden, it felt strange. Different, somehow. Not the same as it had always been before. Being all alone in the garden, surrounded by the trees and flowers and fountains as she liked to be, still filled her with joy and excitement. She could feel them growing all around her, taking strength out of the earth. In her weakened state, it was nearly intoxicating

Still. It felt, oh, she wasn't sure... Foreign. Somehow, she felt less drawn to the beauty of nature, as she usually was. It was more like the scientific objectivity that interested her. While she was confused by this, she was also curious. Never before had she truly stopped to marvel at the ingenuity of it-how each flower was distinctively fashioned for its own unique end. How the different leaves of different trees were shaped to better spread their seed. How their roots tunneled down deeper and deeper, to reach the nourishment they needed. It was like a new door had opened in her mind.

As the days passed, she found herself often in the library, though rarely alone. She had always loved to read, whether in silence or in company. And-she wasn't sure why-she found herself suddenly craving knowledge in a way she had never felt before. Which was a feat, she thought. Suddenly, she felt that she could never be satisfied.

One afternoon, as she browsed the shelves, a certain tome caught her eye. It was bound in green leather which seemed fairly new, with gold lettering embossed on the spine:

_The Ancient Creatures of the Blue Planet_

On a normal day, it would have just been a good read, like any other. However, her dreams had been unusual since she had first woken up. It reminded her with dread of the dreams Palom had been having for several months, now. Strange visions of frightening monsters, which she could never remember with any clarity once she woke up, drenched in cold sweat in the middle of the night. But there were some details which she had managed to hold onto.

She carried the book back to a reading table, where Ivri was waiting with a book of his own. He gave her an encouraging smile when she returned, and stood up to pull out her chair.

Ever the gentleman, she thought with a smile of her own.

"What have you got today?" he asked.

"I found this," she answered, holding up the green book for him to see.

"Ancient things, huh? You'll have to let me see it, when you're finished."

As he sat back down, and she opened her book, he took her hand and held it firmly, supportively, reminding her that he was always there for her. She surprised herself a bit by being almost reluctant to return his grasp. Perhaps she was just excited to start reading, she decided. She put the matter from her mind, and flipped to the index.

After a while of silence, she gave his hand a squeeze to get his attention.

"Ivri, listen to this," she said, reading out loud for him. "There is evidence that large lizard-like creatures once roamed our planet, long before the dawn of human kind. These are typically classed as 'dinosaurs' in modern bestiaries. Most of them were several hundred yards tall, often as long as they were tall. This is evidenced by the fossils that have been found all across our planet, some dating back millions of years. Their social and dietary habits can often be discerned by observing the shapes of these fossils."

"Oh, yeah," Ivri agreed, interested. "I've seen some fossils at school before. Some have even said, they may have been related to dragons. There have been a lot of dragon-sized and shaped bones found all around the island of Mysidia, especially around the base of the mountain."

"Some say that this is why the island is shaped like a dragon. Because it was their ancient home-the birthplace of dragon kind," she added mysteriously, well aware of the myth. She had never been able to believe that was entirely true, but it was a good story.

Today, it suddenly seemed almost childishly silly.

"There are also a lot of dinosaur-like creatures that are still alive today," Ivri continued. "Some are nearly unchanged from thousands of years ago."

"Not this guy," she pointed out, tapping an illustration on the page. It depicted an enormous, scaly creature, which the book addressed as, _tyrannosaurus rex_. Beside its title, in smaller red letters, it was also labeled, _extinct._

"Many scholars postulate that the so-called 't-rex' was the predecessor of the modern dragon. Though similar in stature and appearance, tyrannosaurus rex lacked the wings and forearms of the dragon with which we are familiar today. Both species share powerful jaws and teeth suited to carnivores, as well as sharp claws on wide, paw-like hind feet. There is debate over whether or not tyrannosaurus rex had the ability to breath fire.

"Tyrannosaurus rex has been found all across the planet, particularly in the areas now known as Mysidia, Tycoon, and... Salamand...? (Those places are on entirely different continents...) The exact cause of their general demise is uncertain; though excavations have shown signs of a mass extinction during their time, which has effectively wiped out not only their species, but countless others of the same time period."

"Whoa. Heavy stuff."

"You don't suppose that could happen again, do you?"

"Nah. No way. And even if it does, we have you and the Light Warriors to stop it, now don't we? The dinosaurs never had that."

"True, true."

"Porom, is there something wrong? You seem nervous."

"Oh... No, its nothing," she insisted with a reassuring smile, and closed her book carefully. "You know what? I think I'm done with this for the day. You can have it now, if you'd like."

"Done already? You seemed to be enjoying it."

"Eh, not as much as I thought I would. You take it, I'm going to find something else."

Ivri didn't seem entirely convinced, but he took the book when she handed it over. As she stood up, he held her back.

"You know that you can tell me anything. I'll always be here to listen. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do."

"You're sure there's nothing you'd like to talk about? Anything at all?"

"Yes, dearest, I'm sure."

"...Well, okay, then." He gently kissed her hand, and then looked back up at her. "I love you, Porom."

"I love you, too, Ivri." She bent to kiss the top of head, and ran her fingers through his golden hair. "You don't have to worry about me, you know. I am getting better, after all. Just look at me."

"Yes, I see. You get better and better every day. I'm just still... That was a painfully close call. We almost lost you... I almost lost you. That's terrifying to think about."

"Well, don't think about it. I'm here now, and its all over. Everything worked out just fine, you see? Hey, I'll be back in a few minutes with something new. Then, maybe later... We could find another trellis to hide behind for a bit?"

"That sounds fun. Yeah, let's do it."

He released her, and she walked off back to the bookshelves. That book had given her exactly the answer she had been looking for. The monster she was sure she saw in her dreams had seemed familiar, though her memories of it were hazy. She knew she had seen those shapes before. The box-like head; the gaping, empty eye sockets; the snaking river of vertebrae that trailed off into a whipping tail; the short, stubby arms, and the thick bones of the hind legs, all ending with razor talons. The rows of glinting fangs, fit for ripping meat, lashing right for her...

Perhaps the tyrant king of the ancient dinosaurs was not as extinct as some books said he was.

2222222222

"So soon? Brother, you're rushing into this, aren't you?"

"I understand your reservations, Cecil, and you've been more than kind. But if I don't leave soon, I fear I never will."

"I know, I know. We just hate to see you going so suddenly. You never even said you were making plans."

"I began making them the day we returned. I have a few things stored up, I have some maps, and I've booked my passage already. I leave for Damcyan two days from now, and it was rather too late to call it off now."

Theo appreciated the concern in his brother's eyes, but assured himself that he would be alright on his own. If his memories and the word of his family were all true, the kind-hearted king of Damcyan was the best place to start on his quest. And he was determined to do it alone, without anyone's help. He had to. If he came with the support of another king-one with a strong personal bias-who would honestly take him seriously?

Cecil didn't like this much. He made a face and asked, "Have you asked for an audience? They won't let you in the castle without one, much less into the throne room. Edward is a compassionate man, to be sure; but he is also cautious and has a certain appreciation for the rules."

Theo shrugged. "I have heard from several sources that he often goes walking casually through the city. I will find him there."

"Your plan is to sit still in the city and just wait for him to walk past you? Theo, you don't even know what he looks like. You'll be in Damcyan for ages, if you go about it like this. If you would just let me help you here-"

"I must do this by myself. It won't mean anything, if you do all my talking for me. Though if it were really that easy, it would be an admittedly welcome relief."

"I understand why you're doing this; but there are better ways to approach this. If you would at least let me write to him, telling him to expect someone, you could see him in a matter of days instead of months. Anyway, this has been hard enough for you. If I can do anything to help ease this burden, I'm determined to do it. I'm not letting you do this the hard way."

"I deserve to do it the hard way."

"What you deserve is to be forgiven, if its what you seek. You've already waited for nine years. You shouldn't have to wait another day, torturing yourself like this. If I had my way, I would abandon all my personal duties to go with you. In all honesty, I had hoped we might do this together. As brothers."

"To make up for lost time?" Theo asked with a smirk.

"There's almost 30 years to make up for. Every little adventure counts."

"...Is there time for you to make plans?"

"Hardly. Two days is extremely short notice, and I've already been gone a week that was far from planned. Just promise me that when you return to make further plans, you will let me know next time."

"I promise. And... I suppose a letter of recommendation would be very helpful. Thank you."

"I'll have it sent in an hour or two. And I want you to promise me that you won't run off somewhere else when your business is finished in Damcyan. You come straight home, understand?"

Theo sighed. "You sound like mother."

"I do try. Make sure to say goodbye to everyone, especially Rhys. He will miss you while you're gone; he's been enjoying having you around."

"Of course."

"I've been enjoying having you around, too. You could do very well for yourself, here in Baron. Personally, I think you would make an excellent addition to our armed forces; and our younger men could use your teaching. Otherwise, you have other useful skills-for all your black magic, you're a decent healer. If you moved into the city, you could build a good life for yourself."

"Yes, I've noticed. Which is why I have to go, before I become anymore comfortable."

"More than understandable. And I won't step in to fight all your battles for you; I wouldn't even if you wanted me to. I'm proud of you, Theo."

"Oh... Thank you. Yes, I will hurry back as soon as I can. This audience with the king is going to be interesting. I do not doubt that you will want a detailed report."

"I look forward to it."

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Something seemed off, all of a sudden. Like something was missing. Palom couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a void in the castle. Something he had become comfortable with had vanished. What could it be...?

Everything seemed normal enough. Servants bustled around, chatting indistinctly with one another. Courtiers went about their courtly business, pretending that he didn't exist. The king was in meetings with local merchants, and the queen was somewhere chasing down her son. Bethany was in the library with a book. Ivri had snuck off somewhere, and Porom was probably with him.

That was still a bothersome idea; but it was becoming less so, lately.

Finding no one else to ask who might have an answer, Palom bit down hard on his pride when he ran into one of Cecil's obnoxious uncles. (Rex, Bruno, what was the difference? They looked the same to him.) The older man did a poor job of masking his disdain, and sighed sharply.

"Ah, if it isn't my nephew's clever friend. How fares your sister?"

An attempt at polite small talk which only came off as insipid. Palom didn't have time for this.

"Well, she's been better. She also been worse. Actually, can I ask you something?"

"Ask away. I am at your leisure, young man."

"Has someone left the castle? I sense that a powerful presence is missing today."

"Oh, yes. Sir Theodore departed early this morning, on his way to Damcyan on an errand. His majesty expects him back within a week, though. His absence if widely felt; he has become a fixture in our home, as much as you and your entourage."

As if their home had been invaded by rats.

All the same, that was surprising to hear. No one had said Moony was going anywhere. If Porom asked for him again, as she frequently did, she was in for disappointment. And Palom hated to disappoint her on good days.

"Hey, if I'm you're at my leisure, I have another question for you."

"Very well."

"If you hate us being here so much, why can't you just say it to my face? I don't know if anyone told you, but I don't like being lied to. Especially when you're standing right in front of me. I'm not stupid, you know."

Finally, the man's face shifted into something more believable.

"Refreshing. I am not one for lying, myself. Sadly, whatever the king says is the rule. However, if that is the way you want it."

"I'm a big boy, mister. I can handle the truth."

"No, I do not appreciate it that my nephew feels compelled to allow any riffraff that passes him into the castle. He fancies you to be some sort of extended family to be responsible for. I find that disingenuous, considering his own mother was my older sister, and he never had to climb a mountain to find me."

"I prefer to think that it speaks volumes about you."

"Say what you like, boy. Your constant presence here is far from appreciated. When your sister is well again, we will expect you to take your things and be gone."

"Get used to disappointment. I can't speak for our friends, but my sister and I haven't made plans to go anywhere. Geez, do you even remember her name?"

"Do you remember mine?"

"Touché."

The man wrinkled his nose at him, not amused.

"If you plan to stay, I would suggest you start marking the names of your betters."

"I would suggest you do the same."

There was a tense silence as they stared each other down. It had become an awkward battle of wills. Maybe this upstart courtier had his title to rest on; but Palom had that and plenty more to stand firmly on.

"My honored nephew will be hearing of this," the man quipped, and went on his way.

"I expect a glowing report," Palom grinned over his shoulder. He didn't expect more than a warning later.

But dang. He had rarely come in such close contact with the nobles; not that he needed to, to know they didn't like having him around. He had hoped, at least, they would be an improvement from the Mysidians. It seemed he had been mistaken about that...

At least he didn't have to worry about them trying to slit his sister's throat in her sleep. Maybe that was improvement enough for right now.

Still not finding Porom around, he decided to talk to Bethany about it. She was as clever and sneaky as he was, but she was also a bastion of good advice.

"So, what will you do?" she asked quizzically as she continued reading her book. "You've got what you were looking for, you got a permanent residence in Baron, just like you wanted. And Porom's finally willing to stay permanently. You're not just going to yank her up like that again, are you?"

"No, but I feel so conflicted. Like I convinced her to leave one bad situation for another one," he explained from his perch on the edge of the table.

"Nothing is ever going to be perfect, Palom. Someone's going to hate you for no reason, no matter where you go. Someone somewhere is going to hate you just for being taller than them, or something. If you're going to nitpick over details like that, you'll never be happy."

"But there must be a place we can go where we don't have to battle people over who we are. Just as people. We've spent our lives being hated because of who we are, one way or another. Because of things that have nothing to do with the people we've become. Everyone just wants to hold us down."

"Everyone? That's a stretch, dear. The castle staff seem to think very highly of you. The cook sneaks you food in the middle of the night, for pity's sake! No, normal people seem to be enchanted by you, wherever you go. I think... Its the people you intimidate who don't like you."

"What?! Since when do I go around intimidating people?"

"You don't. You're a good, kind person. But you're also a very powerful, willful, handsome young man. When you come around like its no big deal, it frightens those with power of their own. You could wipe them out with a flick of the wrist. Your better friends are their kings, and they listen to you in a way they don't listen to their own buddies. You become competition.

"And you've got something else they don't have: you're confident in yourself, exactly as you are, without the need for a mask. Few men with power can say that."

Palom grinned and rested his hands behind his head. "Yeah, I guess I am pretty awesome."

Bethany laughed, and stood up to face him squarely. "You're just so natural, you know? You've got a lot for others to be jealous of, and you act like its nothing."

"Well, its not. Why should I be afraid to show off a little? I think I've earned it."

She giggled and slid her hands over his shoulders. "You should be more dangerous, you know-No! I meant careful! You should be more _careful_!"

"Slip of the tongue?" he teased, wrapping his arms around her.

"Curse your beautiful, distracting face. It shuts my brain off sometimes. When they said that looks can kill, they meant you; which was what I meant to say was dangerous."

"But if I'm not dangerous enough for you, I can fix it."

"No, no, I like you just as you are."

"It would be so easy," he insisted in her ear. "Another mountain, another adventure, and there you go."

"I've had enough adventures for the time being."

"Good. So have I."

He was going to kiss her, but she beat him to it. She often did, and he never minded being surprised when she got the drop on him like that. Just another reason to love her, he decided.

"We can live happily ever after right here, can't we?" she asked hopefully.

"Sure we can," he agreed, nuzzling her face. "It'll be great-all our kids, and Porom and Ivri's kids, running around and getting in stupid trouble of their things at each other, setting the Harveys on fire, rearranging the library books... Yeah. Its going to be fun."

Bethany sighed and let her head rest on his shoulder. "Sounds like a life worth living. Being stuck in Mysidia, buried in dusty old books and following all their rules... I never intended to live like that, anyway."

"And you can get a job teaching, right here at the castle. People will send their kids here from all over the world to be taught by you. You'll be more famous than me!"

"Oh, and you won't be keeping busy?"

"Well, you know us high mages. We don't really do much, you know."

"You'll be discovering all the amazing new crap I'll have to teach. Be gentle, okay? I'm all for new textbooks, but I don't exactly want a new one every other month."

"Discovering stuff? Nah, that's Porom's thing. I'll just stay home with the kids, and make sure they don't burn down anything too important."

"Making sure they leave something for _you _to burn down, you mean."

"My way sounded nicer, but sure."

She looked ready to kiss him again, but she peered warily over his shoulder instead as someone wandered into the library. He turned to see a finely dressed woman, who stopped for a second to stare at them disapprovingly before going on her way.

"Let's go somewhere else," Bethany suggested.

"Shall I carry your books?"

"Leave them."

"As you wish, my snuggly dear."

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Theo regarded Castle Damcyan with cautious apprehension, as the guards at the gate looked over the note he had given them. He was expected, and it had been made sure that he would have no trouble seeing the king. All the same, the task before him seemed more and more daunting, the closer he had gotten to it.

After scanning his note, the guards nodded officially and called for the gate to be opened.

"Please wait inside," one of them instructed. "A servant will show you to the king in a moment or two."

Theo nodded his thanks and stepped through the gate, into an open courtyard paved with pale gray stone, where other residents of the castle meandered on business of their own. Flowerbeds flourished around the walls, and a young yew tree grew at the center of the space. It had been beautifully restored from the damage he remembered. He could see very plainly where the walls had been rebuilt, where new masonry had been placed on top of what had survived the war. If he looked carefully in certain places, he could still see where scorch marks had been left.

It made him cringe to be back.

After a few minutes, a young man in servant's attire approached him and gave him a respectful half-bow.

"His majesty will see you now. Please, follow me."

Theo gulped hard and followed his guide up a few steps and into the castle. He wouldn't have needed the boy's help finding his way, though. Like Baron, the way to the throne room was a straight shot up stairs and through doors, until they arrived in a large, open room where the king met with guests.

And he was surprised to meet the king at the door, instead of on his throne. In fact, Theo had mistaken him for an attendant at first. His guide seemed to think the same, suddenly becoming a little flustered as he clumsily saluted.

"My lord!"

"Yes, my apologies. Thank you, Bernard, you may go."

The servant gave his king a deeper bow, and then hustled back the way he had come. Theo sighed again, startled by how quickly this had happened. He vaguely remembered Edward Chris Von Moir, from the day the castle had ben invaded. He had mistaken him for someone inconsequential then, too. He had been a boy, then, barely 21 years old. They had locked eyes for a split second, before the crystal chamber he had attempted to defend, and then he had fled like a coward.

Hardly prince material. Theo had spared him, because chasing him down for the kill would have been an irrelevant expenditure of energy. Also, in the moment, his cowardice had been amusing. And he had paid for it in other ways.

Today, Edward looked little different. Like all the men of the Von Moir family, his lips had been permanently stained jet black-an arcane ritual that had stemmed from spite long ago, which he intended to die with himself. There were silver streaks in his otherwise gold hair, but his blue eyes were still lively and silently intelligent. The deepening lines around his mouth and eyes were from smiling and laughing over the years, not from sorrow. He was smiling now, always pleased to greet a friend of a friend. He was a trusting, knowledgeable sort, but not without reservations of his own. A good man, with great love and passion in his heart. Enough for all the world.

"Sir Theodore," he said warmly, holding out his hand.

"King Edward," he returned, shaking his host's hand.

"Cecil's letter said that you prefer to go by Theo, though, am I correct?"

"Yes, this is correct."

"Theo it is, then." Turning to the few attendants in the room, he said, "Leave us for a moment, if you please."

All looking perplexed, they nodded in response and headed for side doors. Once they were alone, Edward turned back to him.

"Now, then, to business." Edward reached into his coat pocket and produced a folded paper-the letter Cecil had sent him-and reviewed it breifly. "I was informed that you have a matter of deep personal importance to discuss; though-you'll forgive my impertinence-I don't recall there being any matter between us in the past. Again, forgive me if I am mistaken, but I don't believe we have met."

"No, sir, not officially. It was some time ago. During the war."

"Ah, some time ago, indeed. Not all of my memories of that time are quite clear."

"He... Did not mention who I really am in his letter, did he."

"...I'm sorry...?"

"Theodore is my name, yes. But in those troubled times, I went by a very different name. A name which I know for fact you do remember clearly."

He still couldn't bring himself to confess it out loud. He couldn't bear to say that wretched name for himself. But he was certain that silently clever Edward would figure it out quickly. He watched as the king's face shifted slowly in every direction, as he processed the ominous clue. The moment it all clicked into place was obvious. The younger man looked suddenly shocked, and a bit terrified. He had dismissed his attendants, and was now unguarded, after all.

"Yes, it was I," he confirmed, shutting his eyes and bowing his head in sorrow. "There is no way I can atone for what I have done here, for what I have done to you. I destroyed your home, robbed you of your family, and plunged you headfirst into a war that should never have begun. What I have done to you is nothing short of despicable. And I have spent the past many years in solitude, far away from this place, afraid to face the consequences of my actions.

"I have returned now to make amends, if I can. To finally stand before you and say, from the depths of my being... I am sorry. I am truly sorry for all I have done."

He didn't look up, but he could feel Edward staring at him with what he feared could be coldness. There was a long pause, and then he heard the king sigh deeply.

"You've truly come all this way to seek forgiveness?"

Theo said nothing, but peered up cautiously. To his surprise and relief, Edward was smiling faintly.

"You really are Cecil's brother. You sound so much like him."

He was still awash with emotions, memories tumbling over in his mind. He turned and gazed over the open space, a look of regret covering his face.

"Oh, this place... I lost my first love here, on this very floor. I was no longer a child, then; but my childhood ended here. A monster of a man, cloaked in armor of deepest night, stormed into this room and stole it from me in an instant. I became a king in this room... In more ways than a simple coronation."

Theo cringed again and looked back at the floor.

"Never has there been a more cruel man than Golbez in my kingdom. And today is certainly no exception."

Theo snapped his head up, taking his turn to be shocked.

"Mind control is a tricky thing to work around, people say. It can't automatically forgive a person for the things they do, when they are not themselves. And there is truth to this saying. Only those who they err against can grant that forgiveness. Many would call me foolish, but that does not matter to me. For all it is worth, I grant you my forgiveness."

"...That easily?"

Edward came nearer and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I believe we have all learned the power of forgiveness. It doesn't do, to withhold it from those who seek it. The wisest of us never need to learn it, but simply know it. The bravest of us practice it, perhaps especially when it is most difficult. And I have come to know a thing or two about real courage, myself."

Cecil had been right. This man was every inch the incredible poet he had been made out to be. Theo felt a sense of peace come over him, as he had felt when his brother had also forgiven him. Perhaps this quest would not be as futile or difficult as he had anticipated.

"How long are you to stay with us, Sir Theo? Anything you may request, I will do my best to provide."

"I have found everything I came here for, and I have asked enough of you already. In any case, my brother expects me back tomorrow evening; and I promised him I would not run off again."

Edward smiled knowingly. "Lots of plans ahead?"

"He has christened it a quest. I suppose he is not wrong, after all."

"Then you must be home by tomorrow evening. Cecil must have wanted badly to come with you."

"He put up a valiant fight. Yet, this was something I felt I had to do by myself. Without his help. And he has... Been away for some time already."

"Oh yes, I had heard. Though the grapevine is not always the best place to get your information from. I had heard there was some sort of trouble several weeks ago with two of our younger friends. I don't suppose you could tell me more of this?"

Now Edward was suddenly very concerned. He, too, cared deeply for the twins.

"It is over and done now, and they are both perfectly fine," he insisted. "They will remain in Baron for the foreseeable future-permanently, if my sister-in-law has her way. Though I do not believe she has had a hard time convincing them to stay."

Edward looked thoughtful. "Something truly terrible must have happened. You will be sure to tell me everything that has happened, between the moon, and the twins, and your quest, before you leave, won't you? It seems there is much I have missed, in the short time since I have been to Baron."

"If I can, I will. There is much I fear you will not understand, as I do not understand it all, myself."

"Then I will be patient, and listen as carefully as I can. Perhaps you will walk with me for a while?"

"...Yes, perhaps I shall."

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Author's Notes...

I am particularly pleased that this chapter came together as quickly as it did. I have big plans for the next chapter, as it is based loosely on real life events. Also, there will be a large time gap in store for next time. ;)

I may be posting pics on Deviant Art soon, of the place to which our heroes will be travelling next time. Its a real place! XD

And this is irrelevant... But I know for a fact that I have been watching too much Jane and the Dragon recently, because I keep reading the lines of inconsequential characters in voices from the show. Lol, Rex and Bruno both sound like Gunther in my head. There really is no difference between them. :P And though its a little British for the setting, Jane's voice is a good match for Bethany. I may need to wiki the names of the voice actors, later this week... Yes, I have been way too this show. It seems I have a weakness for Canadian cartoons and low quality CGI... 0.o


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